Hurts Like Hell
by notawritersh
Summary: Instead of fighting back to keep the suit, Peter kinda sorta willingly gives it back, which confuses Tony Stark. After that, the teen is quiet and voicemails Happy and Tony about the stuff he's done in his home made suit, but soon stops calling them too. The oh so fun, depressed Peter Parker story with Tony acting like a dad for him, it's gonna be great. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: The only marvel movies I've ever watched were Logan, Infinity War, and Recently Homecoming, also half of Venom. I only got obsessed with Peter being a depressed bitch when I watched the gameplay of the Spider-man game. I know nothing else than what I've read in the edgy emo Peter Parker fanfiction I've seen. Please don't hate me, I'm going to try and watch at least Winter Soldier, Endgame, and Far From Home. I also don't own any of these characters, which you might've guessed. I might add in some original characters but like that's it.

Please review and constructive criticism is very much appreciated.

So about the story, yeah so this is set during Homecoming in the scene where Peter's like "if you cared you'd be here" and Tony's there and Peter's like "oh wait oh shit im fucked."

* * *

"_If you're nothing without the suit, then maybe you shouldn't have it."_

Peter stepped back from Tony in shock, those words ringing in his ears until it was all he could hear.

_Nothing without the suit. Nothing. _

_Useless._

_Nothing._

_You're nothing._

Okay, so maybe Tony never exactly said that he was nothing, but Peter hasn't had these thoughts in a while. The last time he's had these thoughts were when Uncle Ben had died. He couldn't bear leaving his room and he wallowed in self pity and depression. After he had died, Peter refused to leave his room for three months, only leaving to go to the bathroom and patrol and left enough to make Aunt May not worry as much. He had tried to starve himself as much as possible while allowing himself to still be functionable. Him being Spider-Man was the only thing that had stopped himself from just giving up and killing himself.

And now it was being taken away.

Spider-Man had saved Peter too many times to count. The only thing that had saved him was being taken away.

he felt empty.

Peter Parker, the kid who never stopped talking, the kid who practically worshipped Iron Man and the rest of the Avengers, the kid who wished that Happy would put in the effort to talk to him, felt empty.

So Peter replied to Stark by just sighing defeatedly and shrugging. "Okay."

Tony was taken aback from Peter's willingness to give back the suit. He had expected the teenager to fight back and launch into some speech saying that New York needed Spider-Man or something. He had even prepared a script when that happened, saying what he thought a responsible parent—I mean adult—would say.

But he just nodded stiffly and put his arm out so that Peter could give him the suit.

"Oh, um… I don't really have any clothes under here."

Figured. Stark nodded again. "We'll fix that, c'mon."

* * *

Peter walked home, dragging his feet behind him. He was sad and exhausted, and just wanted to collapse into his bed and cry himself to sleep.

While he walked, he helped some people with directions and stopped someone from taking a lady's purse.

_Nothing._

_Nothing nothing nothing._

_Just nothing._

Hearing Tony say that, hearing his own mentor say that, someone he had looked up to since he was just a child, someone who had helped Peter be who he is and was a part of the reason he had quit cutting, well.

It hurt.

It hurt like hell.

And Tony blaming _him _and telling him that it was his fault that the ferry was cut in half was so _frustrating_. His mentor yelled at him for trying to save people, he was near close to not failing too, if he didn't forget that one section.

But everything bad that happens is his fault, so okay.

No thanks to him, people were alive.

He could've killed people.

_You never do anything right._

He just wished it never happened. Wished there wasn't some weird old bird guy flying around dealing alien tech.

He wished that he never yelled back at Tony, or disobeyed him. Maybe then he would've still had the suit.

But it's gone, and he couldn't change that.

Peter already knew that the first thing Happh and Tony were gonna do we're to probably delete his number and forget he ever existed. Which was fine by him.

Less people that cared about him.

Then at least he could finally get out of Tony's hair, poor guy was probably sick of him.

He came home, told Aunt May that he had lost his internship, got comforted by her, and then went to his bedroom after convincing May that he wasn't hungry.

He couldn't sleep.

There was just too much on his mind.

Too much.

There was always too much.

Worry and fear and just so so much.

He felt so empty, but his mind was racing.

_You're nothing._

_You were wrong._

_This is all your fault._

Peter tossed and turned, trying to tune out his thoughts. He had a test tomorrow, he needed as much sleep as he could manage, but his stupid brain was not gonna let it happen any time soon.

_You couldn't even make Mr. Stark proud, what makes you think that you're just allowed to live happy? Ben's dead because of you._

_No._

_No._

_Useless._

_Useless._

_You can't even stop that weird creepy dude with wings._

No.

Stop.

STOP!

He hadn't had these thoughts in a year, why are they suddenly coming back?

Peter felt like he couldn't breathe. He opened the window to let in some fresh air but he still felt sick and he looked down outside.

His brain wandered around before he shook his head and took a deep breath, closing the window and running his fingers through his hair, slowly calming down. The teen took deep breaths and blinked up at the ceiling, daring himself not to cry.

He was okay.

He didn't need Mr. Stark's help, he can deal with himself. He's gonna be okay.

He has to be okay.

He wasn't sure what he's going to do to himself if he wasn't.

He finally fell asleep emotionally exhausted.

* * *

Happy was driving Tony back the Avengers Tower, ignoring the fact that Tony had not said anything the entire ride. Must be one of his moods

However, Tony was still concerned over the fact that Peter had given up his suit so easily. Did he have something planned? Did he go too far? He hoped not. He would never admit it, but the kid has grown on him since he's known him. He was a good kid though, he'll be fine.

But he was so unusually quiet when they were heading back to grab a shirt and pants to wear back to his house. What if Peter took it to heart? He was only exaggerating when he said he was taking the suit forever. At most he'd take it away for a week, maybe two. Maybe that was why? But Peter should've already known that he tended to exaggerate things. Stupid teenage minds and their stupid self doubting brains.

Whatever. He'll make it up the the kid tomorrow by picking him up or something from school and treating him to some ice cream store and talk.

"Boss?"

"Hm?"

"We're here."

"Oh, right. Thanks Hap."

* * *

Okay, so how was that? Like I said, I have no clue what happened before Homecoming besides what I've already read on this site so can yall just review and try and give me some constructive criticism or something? Thanks!


	2. Chapter 2

Damn guys holy shit, as of writing this I currently have over two hundred views and thirty-three followers for the story that's so wild y'all. Y'all are wild. Thanks for the support!

Also, I know this is a lot to ask but I would also really appreciate it if you reviewed my chapters and the story in general, it just really helps motivate me and makes me think that the writing I'm doing isn't useless.

Anyways, thanks for the followers and the views! Onto the next chapter!

Disclaimer: I don't own marvel and I never will.

* * *

Peter Parker's alarm went off.

When the hell did it get so loud?

He woke up, wincing at the fast movement and the piercing sound of the screeching alarm clock, frantically turning it off. Peter sighed in relief and ran his fingers through his hair, thinking. He hadn't gotten much sleep last night. After he fell asleep, he had woken up three more times, all from nightmares of failing.

Failing to save Ben.

Failing to impress Mr. Stark.

Failing to be a good nephew for Aunt May.

Peter sighed again, running a tired hand over his face as he looked in his reflection. He had bags in his eyes, not too noticeable, just a slight discolouration. Nothing compared to a few months ago.

After Uncle Ben died.

After Peter failed the first time.

He shook his head out of his thoughts, trying to tell himself that those weren't real, that they were just there to be an obstacle in his path. He finally got dressed after realizing that it was 7:15, fixed his hair the best he could, and grabbed his skateboard and bag. After thinking for several moments, he also grabbed his homemade suit.

He walked downstairs, smelling bacon in the air. For once, peter wasn't late.

Maybe because he didn't have a good sleep, and he didn't want to go back to the silly old nightmares.

"You want some breakfast, Petey dear?" Aunt May asked kindly and hopefully, but Peter just shook his head, giving in her direction a smile that he hoped was convincing. He assumed he had since May had drowned.

"No thanks, May. I'm not really that hungry, actually. I'll just have a banana or something." The teen shrugged and grabbed a banana out of a fruit bowl. May looked disappointed and concerned but nodded her understanding.

"Alright, Peter.. you know if you want to talk I'm here.. even Ned." She offered, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Peter froze for a moment before nodding. "Thanks May, gotta go, love you." He kisses her cheek and leaves, skateboarding his way to his school.

Before arriving at the school, the teenager had given the banana to a homeless man, and also gave him five dollars of his change. Sure, that money was supposed to be for his lunch, but he can afford not eating for a while. It was worth it too, because the man had thanked him profusely and told him that he was a good kid.

Ah, Midtown High.

Just where he wanted to be.

Who knew it could be so tiring to have a kid named Flash Thompson, aka fucking Eugene, annoying you every single day?

In truth, Peter had always tried to ignore him, after all Flash had been one of the main factors of making his depression worse since Ben had died, but he was... kinda past his death, at least that's what he thought. So he had ignored him and just gave him the general answers, never really gave in.

Now, though, his words hurt.

Like a lot.

Even "Penis Parker" hurt, and that was one of the stupidest names Flash had come up with.

"Sup, Penis Parker." Flash sneered, punching his shoulder. "How was your 'internship at Stark Industries' last night?" He said, making air quotes.

Ouch, okay, that hurts.

He may not have believed that the internship was real, but now he can tell him that he got fired, so. At least he didn't need to try anymore.

Peter shrugged and grabbed his textbooks and notebooks from his locker.

"What, not gonna even answer me? Oh that's right, because you're lying about your internship."

_Holy shit, does he ever stop whining about that?_

He shrugs again. "I got fired." The pale boy said simply and quietly, and walked off to his first class.

Flash stood there confused but then smirked in victory. He probably thought that Peter admitted that it was fake.

In truth, Peter could care less, both about the internship and about school. He just felt empty.

And sad, but that's not the point.

Where he used to be so enthusiastic in answering questions and filling in, now sat a depressed fifteen year old boy resting his head on his hand, who had just lost his only reliable source of comfort.

Peter had relied on the suit too much to make him happy. While yes, huge lego sets and assembling them with Ned was awesome and finally telling him that he was in fact Spider-man did make him happy too, there was still an empty void that it seemed like could only be filled by his suit.

"Peter?"

He looked up and saw the teacher looking at him expectantly, and he glanced at the board looking for any source of information. Peter gave him a short answer that was miraculously correct, and he let out a sigh.

Ned, who was sitting beside him, looked at his best friend, concerned to hell. Did something happen? Oh, wait, yeah, obviously, any normal person would've seen Spider-man help the ferry from splitting in half. Although he had failed, he still supported him and cheered as the ferry finally got saved by Iron Man.

Aka Tony freaking Stark.

Peter got to work with the Avengers! That's so cool!

But how come Peter looked like a kicked puppy?

He decided to ask him once lunch was over.

* * *

"I'm sorry, _what_ did you do?"

So Pepper was mad.

As expected.

"I'm trying to protect him! He could've killed those people and then himself! The kid could've fucking _died_." Tony answered back, crossing his arms.

"That doesn't mean you can just threaten to take away his suit for the rest of his life! Would you be a sad whiny bitch if I took away your suits for life?"

"Yeah, obviously."

"Think of people's feelings, you bastard-"

"What's going on here?" Steve walked into the room, obviously pissed that someone had interrupted his sleep. He had just returned from a long mission.

"Stark," Pepper glared at the mentioned man, "took away Peter's suit. _And_ he told the poor kid that he was keeping it forever."

"Tony…"

"No, you know what? Fuck both of you, he's fine." Tony snapped. "He's gonna get to be a kid! He can't be Spider-Man all the time, he's going to be killed, and I don't want to see him on the news all mangled up in some creepy alleyway."

If he was being truthful to himself, he wasn't so sure about his decision. Stark had kept himself up all night thinking about Peter's behaviour after he reprimanded him.

But he wasn't being truthful to himself, so he was all good.

Pepper sighed frustratedly, turning on her heel and walking towards the elevator. "You're a hopeless case. I just hope you know what you're doing and don't screw it up for him."

She disappeared as the elevator closed.

Tony groaned, looking in the fridge for some sort of alcohol and settling with scotch. Steve looked at him sympathetically as the man poured himself a drink, and sat beside him.

"He didn't answer my calls last night, and he didn't even so much as look at me and Happy's texts."

"He could still be mad." Steve offered unhelpfully. "Maybe you could pick him up today." Yeah, Tony Stark at a school, that would be eventful.

"Yeah, I guess…" he said, taking a long sip.

"Hey, I'm sure you're doing the right thing."

"Thanks, Capsicle."

* * *

That was sure a long talk with Peter and Ned, with Ned feeling shocked and trying his best to cheer his friend up. Peter knew he meant well, but he really didn't feel like he was up to building the Death Star tonight. He just wanted to patrol and sleep.

Ned seemed to understand, as he just nodded and grinned and started talking about how it didn't matter that he didn't work with Stark anymore, and that he was still the Amazing Spider-Man.

It sure didn't feel like that.

Tony's opinion mattered a lot.

When Peter was younger, he looked up to him. He practically worshiped him. He wrote papers about him. When Uncle Ben died, Peter had went into a downward spiral, and just kept getting worse.

And then Tony came along.

Tony helped build his confidence back up and encouraged him. That made Peter respect him even more. He felt as if Tony didn't see him as just some dumb kid trying to impersonate the other superheroes.

He just wanted to be like his hero.

_You weren't enough for him_

_You didn't do better._

_That's why he got rid of you._

_Because you're a liability and a waste of Tony's money and time._

Peter fell silent and let Ned continue talking, trying to ignore those voices in his head as the bell rang.

"And anyways, I also managed to get my mom to buy the Stark Industries set, it's gonna be super cool! You'll build it with me, right?"

"Huh? Yeah, of course, why wouldn't I?" He smiled the best he could. "I gotta leave though, gonna try and get some patrolling in before I go to bed."

"Alright, that's okay. You want a snack?"

"Nah, I'm good, thanks."

_You deserve to be hungry._

They walked out of the school and saw a black Audi that didn't seem to fit in with the rest of the cars. Peter squinted to get a better look and…

Oh shit.

It was Tony Stark.

Ned seemed to realize it too, and so did the other kids. "Holy shit, holy shit- Peter Tony Stark is here peter!"

Peter nodded dumbly and ducked his head down, trying not to be seen by the multimillionaire. "I know, I can see that, I need to go..-"

"What? But he could've changed his mind!"

"Who cares? I need to leave, you go meet him." The teen smiled encouragingly and Ned grinned and ran up to the Audi before a mass stampede of people made their way to Tony Stark.

Okay, that was pretty funny, Peter had to admit. Leaving Tony in a sea full of enthusiastic fanatic teenagers was the greatest thing he's done to him, but he needed to leave.

He decided to turn around and leave through the back exit, and called Aunt May.

"Peter?"

"Hey May, mind if I go to the library for a bit? I need to study for a quiz."

"Sure, just make sure you'll be home before dinner."

"Thanks May, love you."

May told him that she loved him too and she hung up. Peter quickly ran outside into an old alleyway and changed into his homemade suit, webbing his belongings to a wall and began web swinging. Man, it felt different after you got used to Karen greeting you and the awesome visuals. All Peter could see through the goggles were the boring outside world.

_Pathetic. _

He swung around and found a mugging and webbed the criminals up, then helped the woman up. "Yikes." She said sympathetically. "Got a major downgrade?"

"Yeah," Peter laughed, "it gets the job done though."

He swung around for some more and perched on top of a roof, taking in his surroundings and paying close attention to his Spidey senses.

He needed to avoid Tony and Happy. Peter couldn't stand thinking about how disappointed they'd be.

_What if you jumped off this roof right now? No one would miss you, all you do is bother them anyway._

Where the hell did that come from?

He sighed and looked down from the roof, seeing people walk about in their lives, carefree.

Why couldn't he be carefree?

Oh yeah, because he'd lose his suit.

Which he already has.

But still, it was better than nothing and really spiraling.

* * *

How was that? I tried making it a bit longer and I hope y'all are happy. Please please leave a review, even if it's for suggestions or constructive criticism or just saying hi, please it motivates me.


	3. Chapter 3

Damn guys, thanks for all the support, really. I was kinda just writing this for myself, since I really want to get my ideas into one place, and I guess this was a good first fic for my account. Obviously this is not my first account but y'know. Anyways, I guess I should reply to some reviews on chapter two, you guys are really nice.

**Dorothy Hopkins: thanks! Here's the next chapter, lol**

**Piluhappy: aww, thanks. Yeah, its kinda annoying when some writers don't update as fast but what do you do. Thats life. Also, I might not update as fast sometimes because my summer's gonna be a bit busy, I think, and because sometimes I lose motivation. I'll try to upload daily though, and if not, at least once or twice a week!**

**Lucerious: im glad you're enjoying the story so far :D**

**Ritzrules3000: thanks, glad you're enjoying it!**

Just so you guys know, Peter has been diagnosed with MDD (Major Depressive Disorder) in this story, I tried to do research on it, Aunt May has helped him out a lot and has patched his arms up from self harm. He has also tried to kill himself once by overdosing his meds, but May got it out of his system. She also suspects that he is Spider-Man.

Anyways, onto the story!

* * *

Peter continued staring down at them a bit longer, wishing for normalcy, before finally shaking his head sadly at himself. He knew he'd never have his old life again, Uncle Ben dying was proof of that, but he could try and remember what it was like. Clapping and smiling as Ben lit the candles for Peter's seventh birthday, making homemade cards for Christmas and their birthdays, drawing stick figure families for them, Aunt May teasing Ben, Uncle Ben tickling Peter…

_And you killed him._

_He was a good man. You killed a good man._

_They're right, you know._

_You're a murderer._

_You're no good._

_No no no good._

_What the hell? Stop with the voices, brain… _Peter thought to himself, standing up from the ledge. It couldn't have been coming back, could it? His depression? No, no, of course not, he was just a bit down. He'd get over it.

He needed to get over it, or else a depressed Spider-Man would do no good for New York.

So the teenage hero looked into the distance once again and dived, then swung back to where he heard police cars.

It was a simple robbery, but Peter still helped out by pulling the guns out of the masked criminals' hands.

"It's not good to steal, yknow." Spider-Man tutted, blocking an enemy and then swinging his arm back, knocking the man clean out.

He webbed them up to the wall and saluted the officers goodbye before jumping and swinging away.

_It's a quiet day,_ he thought to himself, and with that he decided to go to one of his favourite spots to think.

The place wasn't much, but it had a beautiful lake that Peter admired and had taken loads of pictures of. People were laying down on the sand, relaxing, and Spiderman perched on top of a tall lamp post to think.

He could always relieve his sadness and anger and actually feel something by going back to his old habits, but the last time he did that he ended up with long scars going vertically on his right wrist. Not his smartest choice. That was fun to try and make up an excuse to what happened. Lucky his left wrist's scars had faded quickly.

_"Your arm, what happened?" Clint had asked bluntly after Peter had taken off his sweater. This had been a while ago, of course, and the scar has almost completely faded today. Before, though, it was pretty big and obvious._

_"Huh?" The teen had sat down, unaware that they had seen the scar._

_"Your arm. Giant scar. Care to explain?" The rest of the Avengers also nodded._

_"Oh. This? I almost forgot about that." He hadn't, and he did not like remembering. "This was way back. Like, maybe a few months after I officially became Spider-Man, maybe? I was fighting this super big guy, like, I think his name is Tombstone or something. He was like, giant, and I'm pretty sure he was on steroids. Anyway, so I look at him and he's leading a criminal group, and like I'm pretty sure he's a sociopath or something." Peter had to breathe for a bit, this was the fastest he'd come up with an excuse, and it was a damn good one in his opinion. Probably from the practice with Aunt May._

_Some of this was true though, he did get pretty beat up by a wack dude called Tombstone._

_"So then I jump in the middle of the room, like a dumbass, and I go, 'wait a minute, this isn't a car shop!' And I took out the normal guys right?" Throughout the time Peter spent rambling and explaining, the Avengers all sat and listened, nodding along. "But then big guy was kinda like the Hulk. Like, I'd punch him and sh- stuff but like he didn't even bleed or bruise or flinch! And then he like grabbed a knife and it was like hella sharp by the way, and he like drove it across my skin and like obviously it hurt so."_

_Peter finally stopped talking and just shrugged. "Yeah."_

_Tony nodded thoughtfully and the conversation was dropped., thank god._

Yeah, that had been super fun.

In truth, it was the last time he cut himself, because he was mega close to hitting an artery.

* * *

To say that Tony did not like kids was an understatement. He especially hates teenagers.

Teenagers and their stupid weird smells and their dumb sense of humour…

Still, he tried to answer all the questions that was given to him when a hoard of excited teens bombarded his car. Mainly because when he called Pepper to tell her, she forced Tony to be patient and nice to the little gremlins.

"Are you gonna be the DJ for homecoming?"

"Will you sign my shoes?"

"Can I take a picture of your distressed face?" Yep, that was Michelle.

"Is Penis Parker really your intern?"

Tony's head snapped up when he heard that comment. Penis Parker? What kind of name was that?

"Who asked that last question?"

The entire group fell silent and their eyes fell at Flash Thompson, who looked a bit threatened but was still smirking. How dare that little shit, Tony was furious, call Peter that.

"Me. I'm Flash, the coolest kid in the school."

Ned snickered quietly.

"Okay, _Flash_," he spat the name out like it was venom. "What makes you think that Peter is not my intern?" Stark stared at him coldly, his patience wearing thin, as expected.

"W-well," Flash fathered a bit under his glare, "he's just so skinny and weird and. Well. I'm so much cooler than him and smarter than him."

Tony was seething. This kid, who insulted Peter, dared to say that he was smarter than him? Than fucking Spider-Man? In front of _Tony fucking Stark_, genius, millionare, playboy, philantropist?

"Listen here, Flash." He kept his tone even. "Insult Peter again and you'll regret it."

Flash nodded fearfully and ran away. Once he was out of earshot, Ned and a few others who had believed Peter when he said that he was an intern, burst out laughing.

"Serves him right, asshole." Michelle said simply. "Nice job, Stark." She walked away so that she didn't miss her buss.

One by one the group eventually dispersed, until it was only Ned left.

"Um, Mr. Stark, sir-"

"Tony." The millionaire corrected in a bored tone.

"Tony..- I'm Peter's guy in- I'm Peter's friend, Ned. and. Well, he told me that you fired him."

"Fired him?' He sat up. "I never fired him. I just took away his suit. You do know he's spidey, right?"

"Yeah, yeah, obviously. And he kinda seemed down, he didn't even have lunch. He didn't even ask for a granola bar from me! And I dunno, I'm just kinda worried and he wants to avoid you and he's just been really quiet today and-"

"That's enough. Thanks Ned." Tony had said thank you to three different people in the span of three days. that's a new record.

"No problem, sir. Um… You'll help him, right?"

"I'll try."

* * *

There was a lot more dialogue in this one, I hope I pulled it off okay. Not really proud of this chapter... I'm not the best at it. Anyways, please comment and follow/favourite this story, it would mean the world to me. Thanks!


	4. Chapter 4

Jesus guys, over 1000 views and over 60 follows! Thanks so much, you're the best. Really.

**rileyfisherfisher617: I'm glad you're enjoying the story!**

**LadyVajra: hopefully this chapter fulfills your expectations :)**

**Piluhappy: thanks for your kind words, I'm trying! :D**

**Dorothy Hopkins: sorryyy, I tried making this chapter a bit longer!**

Don't have much words except for Tony and Peter are gonna chat. Also, trigger warning for self harm. hahah

* * *

Tony was glad that Peter had a friend like Ned. He really did seem to genuinely care about him and worried about his safety. The kid always seemed to get in trouble, and Stark was kinda glad that he had someone who was there when he personally couldn't.

"Wait, Ned, do you know where Peter is?" He suddenly asked, realizing that he hadn't seen Parker at all while he was being bombarded by students. Maybe he wasn't paying attention, or maybe he just ignored him...

"Oh, um. He kinda left after he saw that you were at the school."

"Why would he leave and not witness Tony Stark into play?" Tony joked.

Ned shrugged. "Like I said, I don't really know anything. All I know is that he's not acting like himself. Although..." he trailed off, deciding that it was not his secret to tell.

"What?"

"Nothing. You should go talk to him, or May. He's probably out there patrolling or something. If you see him, can you tell him that I said hi?"

"Yeah, of course kid," Tony smiles at him, "you're a good friend." With that, he drove away, letting his thoughts drift and calling Aunt Hottie.

Once Iron Man had driven away, Ned cheered to himself and patted himself on the back in pride, walking home.

* * *

Peter had stopped several muggings and robberies so far, and was even able to stop a grand theft auto! All without the help of the new and improved suit.

No suit.

Only a stupid, crappy old home made suit that made him look more like a wannabee homeless superhero than Spider-Man.

_So dumb and stupid. You deserve it. You fucked up and Stark hates you._

"What the hell?" Peter grumbled to himself accidentally, sitting down on a pretty tall roof.

Peter liked the days when it was quiet. Not much crime, and only the sounds of engines starting and people talking and pigeons squawking. It gave him a sort of a break, and it helped him out by keeping his thoughts at bay. When it wasn't quiet, sometimes the occasional one bad thought would come, but he would push it aside. He knew it came from this line of work, and of course his past depression, it was just another obstacle that he needed to get past.

It was okay.

He was okay.

He had to be okay.

He _had _to.

Or else he didn't know what to do if he wasn't.

But back to the story, he laid down on the roof and closed his eyes, taking off his mask. He wasn't planning to sleep, he just needed a break. His eyes were tired from the lack of sleep he had gotten last night. His eyes stung when he opened them, looking up at none other than _fucking_ Iron Man standing above him with a smirk and a quirked eyebrow.

"Spidey."

Any other day Peter would've been embarrassed, excited, perhaps had even come up with a witty greeting, but he was tired.

He was _so so _tired.

He felt so empty.

So he just hummed his greeting and stood up.

"Sorry Mr. Stark." Peter said quietly, looking down. He did not want to talk to him. He didn't even want to look at him. He wanted to be alone.

But nobody cared about what Peter Parker wanted.

_Peter Parker was a useless nobody that would be better off dead._

Woah, where did that come from?

"Don't say that. You have nothing to apologize for."

Tony observed the kid carefully, noticing that he had darker bags under his eyes than usual, and that he stood up sluggishly, as if he thought that the floor was the most comfortable thing in the world.

The kid was fine, he was sure. Just teenage angst. he _did_ yell at him.

"But I..." The teen looked up at him and gave up on what he was trying to say. What did it matter to Tony, anyway? He probably only came here because of guilt and pity.

Still...

_Stark doesn't give a shit about you. Grow up, Parker._

_He pities you, because you're a dumb teenager trying to play the hero when really you're an annoying brat who doesn't even deserve to breathe the same air as him._

_You don't deserve to breathe._

_Why not just kill yourself so you can finally leave Stark and May alone?_

What the _fuck_?

"Never mind." Peter shrugged.

Tony looked at him, clearly confused about his new behaviour, but decided not to comment on it. What a surprise, at least he wasn't being a nosy jerk right now, which Peter was glad for. "Well, I just came here to tell you, I'm not actually gonna take away your suit forever."

"Huh?"

"I was exxagerating. You know me. I was just thinking for maybe a week or something like that. Y'know?"

"Oh."

"So, by the end of the week you get to have it back."

"Okay."

"That's it?"

"What do you want me to say?"

"I don't know, I expected that I would be bombarded by your 'thank you's."

Peter shrugged again, sighing.

So an uncomfortable silence fell, to which Peter resorted to picking at his nails and looking down.

Never had the kid acted like this around him before.

Tony didn't know what to do. He could see the gears turning in the kid's brain, but he had no idea what he was thinking. For all he could know he was planning a world domination scheme.

Okay, so maybe Tony had a couple more drinks before he went to grab Pete from school, but that wasn't the point.

Eventually, Tony was the first to break the unbearable silence. "Wanna come by the tower and tinker on your web shooters for a bit?"

Peter thought about it and shook his head. "No, I'm okay Mr. Stark. I'm a bit tired and I'm not feeling too well." Well, that was true. "And my aunt might freak if I tell her I'm at the tower. I told her that you fired me. I can probably meet you tomorrow."

"Jeez, kid. For a smart kid you can be pretty dumb." He laughed.

That shouldn't have hurt Peter the way it did, but it still hurt.

_Dumb._

_Stupid._

_Waste of space._

Fucking _stop_.

Jesus Christ, what the hell was wrong with him?

"Shut up." Peter said with just as much sass despite the hurt. He stuck his tongue out and put on his mask. "I should go home. School night."

Stark didn't really want to leave Peter by himself, he still felt like something was wrong, but he didn't know _what_. "Okay. Night Spidey."

"Goodnight Mister St- Tony." He smiled at him, and it seemed so easy to smile, but he didn't feel like smiling. It was so _tiring_ to smile.

It was never hard for him to smile.

Why was it making him so _exhausted_?

He felt like he wanted to rip his hair out and lay down on the road to wait for someone to run him over.

Seriously, what the _hell_?

"Finally!" Tony cheered, feeling victorious now that Peter had used his first name instead of always calling him Mr. Stark.

Peter laughed and swung away, leaving Tony standing there, still concerned. He eventually left, flying back to Stark Industries.

* * *

As Spider-Man swung through the city to get back to his apartment, he found himself taking his time by going the slowest possible route.

The consequences of that were that the bad thoughts came back.

_You should let go of your web and fall._

_Then no one would need to see you again._

_What if you swung in front of a car?_

_You can get ran over, and you can be in pain._

_After all, no pain is equivalent to what Ben would've felt._

_No pain is equivalent to what Tony Stark has gone through._

_No pain is equivalent to what Aunt May probably feels whenever you come home covered in bruises._

_No one would care if you died._

_Because nobody really cares about you._

Okay, so maybe Peter was starting to believe the voice in his brain.

Maybe nobody really did care.

People pretend all the time, it shouldn't hurt Peter, knowing that people probably pretend that they like him, that they pity him, when in reality they're sick and tired of his shit.

May would be so much better off without him.

His thoughts were interrupted by the loud and painful growl from his stomach.

Fuck, he was starving.

But he deserved it.

He deserved pain.

So he swung back to the apartment, finally, and May was working a bit later that night, so he could go back in his room no problem.

Peter unlocked his apartment's door, walked into his room, and collapsed in his bed, groaning tiredly.

He needed to sleep.

He needed to eat.

But he didn't deserve it.

_You don't deserve May's kindness._

_You don't deserve to know Tony Stark._

_You don't deserve Ned._

_You don't deserve to be Spider-Man._

And that was it. That was the end, and Peter sniffled and shook violently, choking out ugly sobs. He didn't deserve _any of this_. He didn't deserve to be here, to be in a warm house, to know the people he knew.

He was useless.

The teen had calmed down. Tears we're less, but still falling down, but Peter, frankly, couldn't be bothered to give two fucks. He stared at his mirror and took off his hoodie.

Six months clean.

_Six months._

Six months since he had last cut himself.

Six months since he had last starved himself.

Six months since he's had bad thoughts like this.

Six months.

Six months since he had finally accepted who he was.

That was all changing.

Peter went to the bathroom and grabbed a disposable razor that he used to shave the peach fuzz off his face, and...

He was no longer six months clean.

* * *

So that was pretty depressing, I'm sorry lmao. I'm so mean, but please tell me what you thought in the comments! If you ever need to talk, just PM me :)


	5. Chapter 5

Thanks for the support guys, 2000 views and over 70 followers. That's so fucking wild.

Also, if you guys want a sort of more light hearted story, I released a new story on my profile. It would mean a lot if you checked it out. It's called "old man, millennial, and 12 year old in battle" and I have so much planned for it.

**Lavendor Queen: Yeah :((( unfortunately he might go through some more shit before he starts getting better just yet**

**rileyfisher617: thanks, I kinda write my stories like how I would think in my mind. My thoughts are all kinda spaced apart and when its a bad day its even more like that, so I kinda just implement that to all my angst stories lol, sorry if this doesn't make any sense.**

**Piluhappy: I can guarantee you that Tony will not be happy and he'll get really sad and protective and confused but he's gonna try his gosh darn hardest to be a good dad- er, figure.**

**LadyVajra: I'm glad you're looking forward to the story! :)**

Trigger warning: Self harm.

* * *

Once he started, Peter couldn't stop. He intended on doing just a couple, maybe two or three, but by the time he finally forced himself to stop, it had ended with ten cuts on his wrists.

Ten.

Ten fucking cuts.

Not only was he useless, but he also didn't know how to control himself.

Peter looked at himself in the mirror with hatred and disgust for himself.

_Hideous._

_Ugly._

_Fat._

_Gross._

He glares at himself in the mirror, ignoring the fact that it was showing the fact that he was already so thin.

Mirrors lie.

They've always lied, they only show what he wanted to see.

And Peter wanted to see himself as a thin person.

The mirror lied, he was fat and ugly and useless and _disgusting._

Peter had never had a fall this hard in his life, but it came so naturally.

He was _so tired._

But he couldn't do that. So instead he began cleaning up his cuts, knowing that it would probably scar over the next day.

Hideous, but strangely beautiful cuts ranging from length and depth.

Peter cleaned the blood off his arm, applying anti-scarring polysporin before grabbing a box of bandaids. He could've just wrapped a bandage around his arm like he had in the past, but this was cheaper and easier.

He was fine.

He needed to be okay.

He had to be fine.

So he sighed tiredly and cleaned the blood off the sink to get rid of any evidence. Peter couldn't let May know that he had fell back again. He couldn't disappoint her even more.

Where was the Zoloft when he needed it? The teen had looked in the medicine cabinet at least three different times and there wasn't any.

Then again, he remembered that nothing like this had happened in a while, so he probably already finished the pill bottle in the past.

_Dumb._

_Annoying._

_Useless._

_Worthless._

_Setback._

_Liability._

"Peter, I'm home!" May called out, closing the door.

"Hey May." He flushed the toilet to make her think that he wasn't doing anything bad. Once he checked over himself to make sure there was no trace of blood on him, Peter zipped up his hoodie and walked out.

"How was school?" She asked kindly.

The kid shrugged.

May looked at him worriedly and looks around. "We have some leftovers in the fridge from last night." She offered kindly, silently begging that he would eat.

Peter hesitated for a moment, really not wanting to have food. He deserved to starve, but he couldn't be suspicious. He needed to make sure May never worried about him.

Toast.

There was toast. Toast was low in calories, he could have it without butter.

"I'll just have toast, May, thanks though. I had a lot to eat at lunch." Peter smiles to make it more convincing, and May seemed to buy it reluctantly.

"Alright.." She began grabbing her own food from the fridge. Peter made his way to the fridge too, to grab the bag of bread. He checked the nutritional value.

That's way too much.

_Too _much.

So he decided to just cut the toast in half and ate it.

"I'll be in my room doing homework, love you."

"..hey Pete?"

He turned to May.

"Don't be afraid to tell me things."

Peter's throat seemed to close, and he couldn't talk, so he nodded and went inside his room.

Thank god.

In his room, he was safe.

He didn't need to pretend.

It was so _tiring _to pretend.

Here, he didn't need to care.

Peter flopped onto his bed, ignoring the pain in his left arm.

_Shit._

Peter shot up from his bed, remembering that Tony still wanted to be around him.

Tony still _cared_.

_You're funny. He doesn't care._

_For once, shut the fuck up, _Peter grumbled and ran out of his room.

"May!"

May jumped slightly, "Jesus Peter-"

"I know, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, but Mr. Stark talked to me, and honestly I was kinda being dramatic. I thought he fired me and-"

"Pete. Calm down. What are you talking about?"

"Tony still wants to me to work for him, and I was being dramatic and all. He told me I can come over to his tower tomorrow." He looked at her sheepishly.

May sighed and giggled lightly. "Well, seeing as you practically worship him, who am I to stop you? If he screws up again, though, you can bet that I'll march right up to his tower and yell at him."

Peter laughed, and it was so easy to laugh.

It felt so natural.

He didn't feel really amused, but he knew that it was supposed to be natural to laugh at May's jokes.

So he laughed and hugged her.

The hug was genuine though.

"Thanks." He mumbled quietly.

"Of course, Petey."

"No!" He cried out, blushing. "You better not call me any more nicknames!-"

"You can't stop me!" Aunt May teased.

Peter stuck his tongue out and headed back to his room.

He almost felt guilty for giving in to his thoughts.

Peter couldn't sleep until four in the morning, and he honestly couldn't find the energy to get up and be Spider-Man.

New York can handle not having Spider-Man for one night.

* * *

He was right.

They managed just fine without him.

_They don't need you._

_They hate you._

_They'd rather die than see you._

_You're useless._

Peter groaned and sat up from his bed, exhausted, then slightly widened his eyes when he realized that his arm still hurt.

He peeled off one of the band-aids.

It was still there. Clear as day.

No, no no no no!

_You moron._

All of the cuts hadn't healed, they were still there, only slightly scabbed over. He couldn't have this, he couldn't..

He needed to eat.

If he didn't eat, he couldn't heal.

But he deserved the pain. He was fine.

Peter was fine.

So what if he started healing like a normal person, maybe even worse, because he didn't eat?

He was fine.

It was all good.

He was _fine._

Peter headed to the bathroom and decided to cut himself again.

He couldn't feel the pain when he sliced through his skin.

He felt satisfaction though, and a wave of calm washed over him. Peter watched as the blood started pouring out of his cuts.

He was okay.

He had to be okay.

He couldn't not be fine.

He was _okay_.

Peter felt empty, but he was _okay_.

Not really emotionless, but just tired and exhausted and ignoring your emotions.

But he was okay.

He needed to be okay.

He can't burden anymore people.

He washed his arm off, wrapped a bandage around his arm, and headed to school, kissing his aunt's cheek goodbye.

* * *

Peter wanted to avoid Flash.

Flash had other plans.

"Parker! The fuck were you thinking, hiring some Stark look-a-like to pity you?"

Maybe that hurt a bit.

Okay, that definitely hurt.

But he was fine.

"Leave me alone, Flash."

"Or what? You'll bring 'Tony Stark' into school and hold an anti-bullying assembly?" He sneers and punches his shoulder, making Peter stumble because he was _so _tired and his spider-sense was not working properly and goddamnit he _couldn't deal with this shit._

"Fuck off." He mumbles, getting up.

"Got some balls, huh?" He kicked Peter on the side, causing the superhuman to fall again.

"I really don't have the time for you." Peter finally got up and shoved Flash off of him. "I'm tired and exhausted and way too sick of your _shit_."

Flash glared at him and punched him clean in the face before stomping off, looking like a five year old having a temper tantrum.

At least he was off his back.

Now Peter just had to survive the rest of the day.

After school, Ned asked if Peter was okay, and Peter had nodded and said, "I'm fine," and told him that he had to go to Stark Tower to do intern stuff and surf the web. Ned had laughed and told him good luck and went on his bus.

Peter's arm felt sore.

His chest hurt, not physically, but a sort of dull ache as if longing for something.

But he was okay.

Sure, it stung, badly, whenever he moved it, but he just ignored it.

Peter walked out of the school and realized that Happy was picking him up.

_Great, another person that hates you_.

The kid sat down at the back seat and mumbled a greeting, before putting his headphones in and listening to music in an attempt to block out all sound and the voices in his head.

He did not see Happy's normally grumpy face contort into a concerned expression before he shook his head and continued driving.

_I'm not the kid's dad, I'll leave it up to Stark._

And with that, he drove to the tower, not even bothering to try and make conversation with the kid.

* * *

"How was the kid, Stark?" Steve asked once Tony came back to the tower, casually reading the paper.

Tony only shrugged and ran his fingers through his hair frustratedly. "I don't know. I didn't ask much. I just told him the basics. I don't even know what's wrong with him." He admits, grabbing a beer from the fridge. "He looked like a fucking _zombie_. It felt like I was talking to a ghost, he was so quiet. The only time he acted like the peter I know is when he laughed at me."

Steve tried not to chuckle at the last sentence, he felt sorry for both Stark and Peter. Who knew what the kid was going through, definitely more than what a normal teenager should go through.

They were gonna help them though.

All of the Avengers.

Because they're a team.

Steve patted his shoulder.

"He's coming by after school to do intern stuff. Happy's just getting him now."

"That's, that's great." Steve smiled, though it sounded more like a question. "You can ask him some more things, see what exactly is eating at him."

Tony sighed, nodding. He was scared.

He was _so _scared for Peter.

He didn't know what was happening, Peter wasn't telling him.

Fuck, the kid was going to make him go grey before he reaches fifty.

He saw Peter as his responsibility, and he cared _so much about him._

But he was going to make sure his—the kid—was okay.

The kid _needed_ to be okay.

"This is all my fault."

"None of that, Tony. You didn't know that taking his suit away would affect him this much. Why don't you go rest a bit, you're tired and obviously haven't slept in a long time. Please?"

Tony reluctantly nodded and stood up.

"Yeah… yeah, yeah okay. Thanks for everything, Steve."

Steve smiled.

"I know I don't say this a lot, but you're a good friend."

* * *

There ya have it! Peter's being a depressed little shit and I'm living for it I'm such a bad person I'm so sorry for making yall suffer.

Please comment and favourite this story, love you guys, thanks for everything :D


	6. Chapter 6

Thanks guys for over 3000 views and almost 90 follows that's insane wtf.

**rileyfisher617: glad you're liking it!**

**xSapphirexRosesxFanx: don't worry, he will, just not yet**

**Marabella: thanks for enjoying the story!**

**Thesplanpoet: aw thanks, im trying to balance everything out so it doesnt look like Peter is a MarySue or something like that**

* * *

**Song currently playing, on loop.**

_I'm not really sure if my words make sense to you_

_But I can't really find_

_Any other way to form these feelings into cubes_

_And sort them in my mind_

_The negative thoughts go to the left_

_And the happy things go to the right_

_There's a little corner saved just for you_

* * *

Peter rested his forehead on the car window, listening to music while staring out, watching buildings, people, and cars zoom by.

He was _so goddamn tired._

He fiddled with his hoodie sleeve for a bit, glad that no extra blood had somehow oozed out of his arm. The kid sighed in relief and they got to Stark Tower quickly.

Too quickly.

Way too quickly.

He really did not want to face him again, he was exhausted and scared and hungry and sad. Peter couldn't let Tony look at him at his state.

But he didn't really have a choice, so he walked out of the car and Happy drove away, leaving just Peter standing there on the sidewalk.

_Please let me know if you changed your mind_

_Cause inside I'm falling_

_And I need you to pull me out of this decline_

Peter turned down the music a bit, and walked into the tower. It was so clean and nice and tidy in contrast to Peter's mess that people call a _life_, so neat and organized and _god _Peter was a fucking disappointment.

_You should've backed out on this when you had the chance, Parker._

_Useless._

_Useless._

_Useless._

_Disappointment_.

Still, he forced himself to put on a cheerful smile and fixed his hair, clearing his throat. The teenager walked into the elevator, watching the door slowly close. "Hey F.R.I.D.A.Y!" Peter greeted, smiling up at the ceiling.

"Hello Peter," she greeted back-he's always loved the AI- ", would you like me to bring you to where Mr. Stark is?"

"Yes please." Sure, she was just an AI, but Aunt May and Uncle Ben had always taught him that manners were very important. So even if people constantly hurt him, even if he felt like giving up, even if he felt like he couldn't take it anymore, he still used his manners.

_Uncle Ben._

_What would he think of you?_

_Pathetic, useless, nobody._

_Couldn't even save him._

Peter flinched at the voice in his head and scratched his right arm irritably, trying to keep himself in check. There was no way he was going to let Tony see what was going on.

Because nothing was going on.

He was okay.

Nothing was wrong with him.

He was fine.

So the elevator went up into wherever floor Tony was currently at, and Peter was able to think.

Did Mr. Stark really want him?

He supposed not, he was probably pitying him and felt bad for taking his suit away.

He shouldn't feel bad though, everything is Peter's fault anyways.

It wasn't Mr. Stark's fault.

_It's yours._

"Hey Underoos." Tony didn't look up from his desk, instead way too focused on some sort of random object he'd been tinkering on.

_Typical. See? He doesn't care. _

_Could you stop?_ Peter told himself, mentally cursing because god what a dumbass he is for thinking that anyone would want to hang out with him.

_Stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid-_

"Hey Mr. Stark." The kid answered lamely, setting his backpack down by the elevator and walking towards the man.

"For the last time, it's _Tony._" Stark groaned, gently pushing the object aside.

"Nope, Mr. Stark."

Tony just shook his head, mind wandering somewhere else. Jesus, was the kid even eating? He looked even thinner than the last time he saw him, and it wasn't like he had any weight to lose in the first place. Peter was going to make him grey before he even graduates, he was sure of it.

"So how are you, kid?"

_How are you how are you how are you_

"I'm fine." Peter responded automatically, it was _so_ easy to say.

So _so_ _easy_.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

He was nervous, and kept his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. Peter didn't want anyone to know how hard he'd fallen, especially not Tony Stark. He was the last person that he wanted to know about this, and hopefully he would never find out.

"Hm. Well, don't you think its time you meet the official Avengers?"

"I thought I met them during the time where Mr. Rogers went bat shit crazy."

"Okay, first of all, language," God, he sounded like Steve, "second, I meant meet them officially, yknow, without the risk of dying."

_Yeah right._

_Without the risk of dying_

_sure._

"I-I mean.. Do I.. have to?"

Peter didn't want to.

He didn't have the energy for that, he didn't have the confidence for that, he didn't have enough _care_ to meet them but Tony seemed excited so then he just reluctantly nods, making Tony grin.

"C'mon, follow me." So they went inside the elevator again, and none of them were talking so Peter turned up his music again.

That was the one thing he loved, listening to music. This particular artist helped him calm down and keep himself grounded, he's listened to the songs many times and he was able to keep himself from panicking, and it would help him calm down after a bad nightmare or a rough night of bad thought.

_I realize how hard on you this must seem_

_But trust me when I say_

_Its far far worse for me_

"Pete?"

"Huh? What?"

"You there?"

"Yeah, yeah sorry I was.. I was listening to music, sorry, sorry." He pauses his music and puts his earbuds away sheepishly, looking down.

"You're okay, I was just.. nevermind." Tony was _not_ going to admit how he was concerned for someone, much less a kid.

Because he knew the kid was okay.

He had to be okay, or else Tony wasn't sure what he was going to do if he wasn't.

The elevator finally dinged, and the doors opened.

Peter's jaw dropped.

Bruce _fricking_ Banner, the Black Widow, Hawkeye, and holy shit _holy shit_ Captain _fucking_ America oh _my god_.

"Um, hi."

"Peter Parker, meet the Avengers," Tony said proudly, "well, some of them. Spider-Man, Avengers. Avengers, Spider-Man."

"Oh." Peter nodded dumbly and avoided their stares.

"The two who are sharing popcorn are Natasha and Clint," the two waved, "that one over there-"

"Is Bruce Banner." Peter said, feeling excited for the first time in a few days. "I read all your articles, you're so awesome!"

Bruce smiled awkwardly, "uh, thanks. I'm surprised you've read them." Tony looked so proud, he was determined to have Peter be part of the 'science bros' group.

"And that's-"

"Steve Rogers." Peter nodded. "Uh, hi." Steve raised an eyebrow at him.

"That's Spider-Man?" Hawkeye looked at Peter. "He's a kid, doesn't look like much. What are you, twelve, thirteen?"

_Doesn't look like much._

_Not much not much not much_

_stupid stupid_

_not enough_

_not enough_

_stupid not enough-_

"I'm turning sixteen in a few months." Peter said quietly, looking down.

"And you made him Spider-Man?" Natasha glared at Tony, she was not told about this.

"What? No! No, no, guys, it's not Mr. Stark's fault, I swear, I was Spider-Man way before he even met me," Peter defended Tony.

Steve frowned. "You shouldn't be doing the kind of stuff that you do at such a young age."

"Look who's talking." Tony teased, making the supersoldier glare at him.

"Guys..."

_They hate you_

_They hate you and they don't want you to exist_

_they hate you they hate you they hate you _

_they hate you they hate hate hate hate-_

Natasha eyed Peter carefully. He really didn't seem like much; most likely a nerd in school, quiet, shy. Really pale though.

Huh.

_I wonder why..._ she thought to herself, mentally thinking about looking into him later on.

Inside, Peter was panicking. Too many people, too many people, and they're all staring at him and he can't breathe-

"Mr Stark, I should go now, actually." Peter managed to say.

"What? Do I smell that bad?"

"No, and I'm sorry, I really am, it's just, I just remembered that I have homework and May will kill me if I don't get it done and-"

To be fair, he did have homework, so it wasn't really lying.

"Aw man, fine, be that way."

"I-I'm sorry, I am-"

"I was gonna offer you to stay the night, but.."

"It's a school night tomorrow.."

"It's Friday." Clint said.

"Wait, what?" He must've really lost track of time, last he remembered it was Wednesday..

_Dumb._

_Stupid._

_Moron._

_stupid stupid stupid-_

"Oh. I mean, y-you can ask Aunt May, I guess..." his panic was slowly subsiding, but that feeling was still there.

"I already called her before you came, she said it's fine, but not before yelling at me."

Peter almost cracked a smile at that, of course May would yell at Tony, she cared about him.

_no she doesn't._

_no no no she doesn't._

_no one does_

_no one no one no one no one. _

"Want me to show you to your room for the night?"

"Uh, yeah, sure."

* * *

Peter laid down on his bed, and he had to admit, it was the softest bed he ever had. He looked up at the ceiling, listening to music. He had to convince Tony that he had a big lunch and that's why he wasn't hungry. But now he was laying down, with a sore, burning arm and an empty stomach.

Like he deserved.

_Please please be here for me dear_

_cause I've never needed a friend more_

_And I can't stress enough how much it means to me_

_that you're trying_

No, no no no he couldn't be crying in this room.

Songs didn't make him cry.

Then why was he clutching his stomach miserably, burying his face into a pillow?

_Useless wimp_

_coward_

_coward coward coward_

Peter sniffled and resisted the urge to scream and breakdown, the song was calming him down though.

But it hurts _so much_.

_I don't mind if you can't hold me like __you used to_

_cause I've never hated myself more_

_but this is just a bump in the road_

_and I promise I'm trying_

Peter wiped away his unshed tears and walked towards the built in bathroom in his room. He had freaked out when he first saw, but now he was just _so tired_ and needed relief from the pain. He looked around for something sharp, perhaps maybe a pin or something, after he looked in the bathroom and saw nothing that he could use.

But Peter thought twice, it was Stark Towers. Someone would be alerted if he did such a thing.

So he laid back down on his bed staring at the ceiling, not being able to sleep until three in the morning.

* * *

There we go! Anyone who knows the song, comment and we'll see if you're right haha, man I love this artist.

Reviews fuel me, please review its so lonely when no one reviews (you dont have to it just kinda sucks when no one reviews on your work so that you can try to make it better or something)


	7. Chapter 7

Guys, almost 5000 views and 100 follows? Are you kidding me? Yall are wilding lmao, I did not expect my fic to get this big :0

**rileyfisher617: yeah, but that's just how ffn and readers in general work I guess, lol**

**Hidden Circumstance: I'm glad you do!  
**

**LadyVajra: Oh, don't worry, Tony's going to loose his absolute mind and activate super irondad mode, its gonna be awesome. idk if theyll punish him yet, Tony might, maybe some of them, but some might not approve of tony wanting to punish him**

**EmilyAnnMcGarret-Winchester: You think I'm gonna end the story without Tony yelling at Flash again? Oh buddy, Tony's gonna be pissed, don't worry**

**hauntedpumpkin56: thanks!**

**Piluhappy: ah, I was wondering where you went, lol. yeah, I tried making the story make you feel like "aw man tony still doesn't know oh no hes gonna be so sad" type of feel yknow. dont worry, I totally feel you for liking angsty fanfics, i do too lmao**

**Nafiad2: Yeah, I realized that now. But it was still better than MJ losing her mind and like actually complimenting him, idk. Like, I feel like MJ would still be totally chill about Flash but still be kind of worried for Peter, so she would say "nice job Stark" because shes glad to see Flash get embarrassed, idk. yeah maybe she was a bit ooc hm**

**gabhafocal: it definitely helps me, and hey if you need someone to talk to just pm me **

Trigger Warning: Panic Attack

* * *

"He seems nice." Clint commented once Peter was in his room. "Skinny and weird, but interesting, y'know?" The others nodded in agreement, but Natasha was thinking about the kid. Just how much did he _weigh_?

"Yeah, a bit quiet though. He reminds me of me when I was his age." Steve looked up thoughtfully.

"Skinny and smart?"

"Well, except for that last part, yeah."

Tony snickered until Natasha spoke up. "He's twelve years old and you decide to be friends with him?"

"He's fifteen." Stark reminded her, sighing. "Look, I know, its irresponsible, but I took away his suit for a while because of the ferry incident and I didn't want him getting hurt again so I took it away."

"Still! You get a _child _to work with you?"

"Nat.." Bruce put a hand on her shoulder. "It's okay. Tony's looking after him."

Romanov opened her mouth to say something but quickly shut it, remaining quiet for the rest of the time until after the rest of them slowly went to their rooms to sleep, with the exception of Tony, he'd probably pass out drooling on some crazy new project.

The spy was intrigued by the kid, and a bit worried about him, but she would never outwardly admit it. She always had a soft spot for children, and Peter was no exception. She felt like she needed to protect him, from the world, from everything, and to find out more about him.

No longer feeling tired, the Black Widow grabbed the nearest computer and logged on, going onto the S.H.E.I.L.D. website. They had files on everyone. And by everyone, literally everyone. Around the world.

She typed on the search bar: Peter Parker.

She scrolled through the faces for a bit before realizing that the first picture was actually Peter.

He looked so...

_Happy._

His face wasn't sunken in and he didn't have dark bags under his eyes.

Natasha frowned before replacing it with a blank expression. What happened to the poor boy now? Why was he so skinny? She knew that people usually lose some weight, especially around his age, but from the looks of it he didn't have much to lose anyways.

She collected herself and clicked on his file.

**_Accessing file..._**

**_Peter Benjamin Parker..._**

**_Picture taken on May 2015_**

**_Date of birth: August 10, 2001_**

_That would explain why he looks younger and happier in the photo, I guess..._

**_Son of Richard and Mary Parker, nephew of May and Ben Parker _**

**_Richard Parker - Deceased (2005)_**

**_Mary Parker - Diseased (2005)_**

**_Ben Parker - Diseased (March 2014)_**

_Oh man... Jeez, poor kid..._

**_Place of Birth: Queens, New York_**

**_Current Guardian: May Parker_**

_**School Grade: Sophomore, Grade 10, Perfect grades, multiple unexcused absences**_

_**Hospital**_** Records:** (ok for the record idk what im doing but lets pretend that i do)

_oh, this should be interesting..._

**_All vaccinations up to date._**

**_Diagnosed with MDD in April 2014_**

**_Prescription: Two Zoloft pills every 5 hours_**

Natasha stood up straight and re-read the sentence over and over again.

This kid- Spider-Man, nonetheless- had Major Depression?

She had a sick feeling in her stomach and the spy looked at the door that lead to Peter's room.

He was only fifteen, and he had been diagnosed with depression for two years..

She needed to help him.

He didn't deserve any of this.

Kids like him should be hanging out with his friends at school, laughing and cracking jokes and getting embarassed by their mothers.

Hell, he doesn't even have any _parents. _They died when he was so young and the closest thing Peter had to a father got killed during a robbery at a store after Natasha dug a little deeper.

This same kid that had been diagnosed with depression, was the same Spider-Man guy who made quips while arresting petty thieves.

Natasha sighed, taking this all in.

What if she told Tony-

no.

That was not her place to tell, she would let the man figure it out for himself. She didn't want to invade Peter's space as much as he already had. Romanov stood up, fully intending to head to her room to try and get a bit of rest- she had checked the time after she finished snooping around, it was around three thirty in the morning- when..

"Ms. Romanov?" Friday's voice rang out, and it sounded quiet, probably because she didn't want to wake anyone else up.

"Hm?"

"Peter is having a panic attack, and he's begging me not to tell the Boss, and you're still awake.." even an AI's voice sounded worried for Peter, and Natasha nodded.

"Thanks Friday, make sure Stark doesn't see the camera feed from his room." It had first made her grumpy too, knowing that Tony had installed a camera in every room, even after he claimed that it was for "security purposes" and that only F.R.I.D.A.Y could look into them. Yeah right.

"Yes ma'am."

* * *

_Peter was in a room, dark sillhouettes surrounding the kid, and he looked around, confused._

_the voices the voices the voices _

_we're all in your head_

_taunts taunts taunts_

_nothing nothing nothing_

_useless_

_you're useless you're nothing nothing nothing_

_nothing without the suit_

_Peter snapped his head up to see Tony glaring at him, with an angry and furious expression that he had never seen cross the man's face in his life, but that wasn't the only thing that scared him,_

_it was because he sounded so disappointed in him_

_nothing without the suit _

_nothing nothing nothing_

_you dont deserve them_

_no deserve no no no no no _

_no_

_Tony continued taunting Peter and_

_nothing nothing_

_useless_

_stupid_

_ugly_

_fat_

_nothing nothing nothing nothing_

_nothing nothing noTHING NOTHING NOTHING-_

Peter woke up, shooting up from the bed and breathing heavily, tears rolling down his face. Fuck, he hadn't even been asleep for thirty minutes and he already had a nightmare.

_nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing_

_useless stupid stupid stupid _

He felt his throat close and his heart ached, and the kid had to bite his lip to keep himself from screaming at the voices to tell them to stop.

Peter was dizzy and he stood up, looking around wildly for his phone and earbuds. He could practically hear his own heart beat and the flow of his blood inside the body, his ears were ringing and _oh god oh god I can't breathe no no no no no where's my phone I can't concentrate-_

_panic panic panic panic_

_dont deserve this no no no no_

_idiot idiot idiot moron loser _

_nothing nothing nOTHING_

"Mr. Parker, I suggest-" Friday's voice sounded from the ceiling. Peter shook his head frantically and looked in the drawer for his phone, he needed to calm down.

_calm down calm down calm down_

"No! Please, Friday, no, you can't let Mr. Stark know, okay? I'm okay, I just- I just need-" He started hyperventilating, clawing at his throat and pulling at his hair, trying to make the stupid voices to _just shut up and let him be for once_. Peter choked out a silent breathless sob, curling up into a ball and scratching his right arm with his fingernails, trying to ground himself, and he couldn't even hear the door open.

_useless useless no good no good_

_no good no good no good no good no good _

_you need to be gone_

He felt warm hands surround him, and his senses flared and he attempted to struggle away, the ringing in his ears still clear as day, he felt his own heart beat faster and _oh god please please please let me go i cant breathe please help help help dont help me im fine im fine-_

_away from them_

_your fault your fault your fault_

_no thanks to you_

_no no no no nO NO NO NO-_

"Hey! Hey, kid, shh, you're alright, don't do that.." he vaguely heard a voice tell him, but the kid couldn't even concentrate and tried to pull away from whoever was holding onto him. However, the person had a strong grip and pulled Peter's hand away from his arm. "You'll only hurt yourself more. Can you hear me? Your name is Peter, right?"

The voice was gentle, so so gentle, he missed it, he remembered when May and Ben used to talk to him like that.

_Ben is dead _

_dead dead dead_

_your fault your FAULT YOUR FAULT-_

Nonetheless, Peter managed to get a small nod out.

Natasha let out a sigh of relief. "Okay, kid. Remember me? I'm Natasha, Black Widow, real scary person," she smiled to herself before returing to a serious expression, "you're okay. You're at Stark Tower, you're safe. We're safe."

Peter tried to slow down his breathing but he couldn't and he tried to scratch himself again but the lady talking to him had stopped him from doing that.

_your fault_

_everything is your fault_

_nothing without the suit_

_nothing nothing nothing_

_you shouldn't have it_

_no no no_

"Hey, okay, listen to me, can you try and match your breaths with me?" Natasha asked quietly, holding his hand comfortingly. "Okay? In," she breathed in, followed by a shaky inhale from Peter, "and out." They exhaled together.

"Okay, good job kid, we're gonna do that a few more times, okay?"

After Natasha managed to calm Peter down, the kid had found his earbuds and phone and was listening to music.

* * *

_He's embarrassed, _Natasha thought to herself, and she sat down on the bed beside Peter, gently running her fingers through his hair in order to comfort him. The kid blushed lightly and paused the music.

"Why did you do it?" He asked quietly, not meeting her eyes.

"What do you mean, little one?"

"I mean.. help me calm down."

"You needed help." Natasha sighed and looked at him with sincerity, which was rare, especially for the Black Widow. "I'm sorry about your uncle."

Peter tensed up slightly and that didn't go unnoticed to the expert spy, but he just shrugged. "Yeah, I guess you'd snoop around or something," he let out a nervous laugh and looked at her. "It's okay, it was a long time ago."

"Still, it takes a long time to recover. You are with depression, no?"

No. He did not have depression, because he was okay.

He was okay he was okay he was okay.

He didn't have depression.

Not anymore.

He was just tired.

So _so_ tired.

He's not depressed.

He can't be depressed.

You can't be a superhero if you're depressed.

He was fine.

Peter was fine, he did not believe himself to have depression.

He was fine.

"That was before," he said quickly "before I recovered from his death, I mean- yeah, I guess I still think about him, and I have relapses, but I'm fine. My depression is like practically gone."

"Little one, depression never goes away," she said sadly, "you can get better but of course you get relapses."

"You're not going to tell Tony about what you found out, right?" He ignored her last statement.

"It is not my secret to tell. But I'm here for you, just remember that."

She cared.

Natasha cared about him.

_no no no she lies_

_she lies she lies she lies_

_pity_

_pity pity pity_

_she pities you_

_pity pity_

_lies lies lies_

"But don't you have your prescription you're supposed to take?"

"Well, yes, but I don't need them anymore."

_she's suspicious_

_loser loser loser loser_

_waste waste waste_

_waste of space_

_die die die die die-_

"Thanks, Ms. Black Widow Ma'am." He offered her a small smile.

"Just Natasha is fine."

"You were scarier when we first met 'officially'."

"Tell anyone about this and I'll lose it on you." Natasha threatened, but she was smiling slightly.

"Alright, alright."

"Are you hungry?"

_hungry_

_hungry hungry hungry_

_deserve this _

_no no no food_

_no no-_

"Yeah, I guess." His healing factor was never going to work otherwise. If he didn't eat, his cuts wouldn't scar over.

He had a plan, and hopefully it'll work for a while.

Eat as much as his body will allow him, let his healing factor work just until his cuts scar, and purge.

Yeah, this could work out.

"Let's make noodles then."

"I'd like that.

* * *

Yikes, i dunno if I did that panic attack scene justice, I personally have never had a panic attack but I've been close to a mental breakdown and I was only able to focus on the voices and idk maybe I did this all wrong lol. Please tell me if I fucked up.

Also are you guys mad that Natasha helped him out first? Even if she hadn't found out about the cuts but she saw Peter scratching himself in an attempt to ground himself? Are yall mad that Nat was the first? idk man it felt reasonable but now I'm unsure cuz I never know what yall want so please let me know

As always please review and follow this story, the reviews fuel me and motivate me to post more chapters! Have a nice day!


	8. Chapter 8

I didn't expect this fic get so popular guys what the hell

**rileyfisher617: yeah, I felt like I was missing something. But I'm glad its okay in your book!**

**LadyVajra: I love seeing Natasha with a soft side too, and I think she's really good with kids but it may just be me.**

**EmilyAnnMcGarrett-Winchester: She really is a gem :') I'm looking forward to writing Flash getting destroyed too tbh lol**

**Piluhappy: I prefer Tony finding out first too, but i felt like in this fic it would be better off having Nat find out first because, well she's a super well trained spy and her motherly instincts are probably telling her that something was off about the kid, idk, maybe just me**

**hauntedpumpkin56: That's what I thought too, honestly, because I feel like if Tony found out first and right away, he'd lose it and lash out at Peter for not telling him sooner about his mental illness. Plus, like Tony has said before, he wasn't good with emotions and accidentally say something he didn't mean to say. At least with Natasha she's kind of understanding and knows how to keep secrets, and is careful. idk, my take on things**

Trigger Warning: purging (forcing yourself to vomit)

Also, check out my poll on my profile

* * *

While Natasha cooked some instant noodle soup on the stove while Peter listened to his music at a low volume, his head down low, sitting down on a bar stool by the island counter, and his hands fiddling with his sleeves. The woman looked at the kid and smiled gently. "You don't need to be embarassed about this, Peter." She said softly, as to not let anyone overhear this conversation. "It happens, even to the best of us."

Peter only remained silent and continued picking at his sleeves, and Tony yawned, walking into the kitchen. "Underoos. You're up early, are you having _noodles _for breakfast?"

Peter shrugged, deciding not to give him an answer, instead just resting his head on his hand tiredly.

"Stark, its four in the morning." Natasha reminded him, placing a large bowl of soup in front of Peter, who started greedily eating it up.

He was _starving_.

"Yeah, and you're making noodles, what's your point?" Tony had answered back, but Peter could care less about paying attention, not when he was finally allowing himself to eat.

His stomach pain slowly began to subside as he ate more and more, until he couldn't bear look at another noodle string and excused himself, standing up from the stool and washing the dish before heading back to his room, where he once again laid down, staring at the ceiling.

How he _wished _that the ceiling would collapse and end his life.

But not now.

Maybe after Vulture's put behind the bars.

Because he couldn't just let some dude with bird wings fly around New York making alien tech.

He needed to stop him, and then after that...

_no one would miss you_

_no one no one._

"Hey kid?" Tony knocked on his door before letting himself in. "Seriously, are you okay?"

"Hm? What, oh, yeah. Just tired." Peter shrugged as the man sat beside him on the bed, clearly uncomfortable.

"Well, I dunno, maybe its just me..."

"Mr. Stark? What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I just thought you've been acting different and..-"

"Its fine Mr. Stark, I promise."

_he knows he knows he knows_

"Alright, well, I suck at emotions but I'm here, the Avengers are here."

"Yeah, I know. Thanks." He said lamely, and Tony walked out of the room.

Once Tony left, Peter got up, his stomach churning. He hadn't eaten for a while, and he wasn't used to it, and he felt sick. He ran to the bathroom in his room and unwrapped the bandage, hoping that the cuts had already faded.

Thank _god_ for his healing factor, they were scarred and quickly fading.

Peter knelt down in front of the toilet and pushed two fingers down into the back of his tongue, gagging and finally emptying himself into the toilet bowl.

_disgusting, gross_

_hideous useless useless useless_

_no good_

_attention seeking little-_

Peter stood up shakily once he stopped vomiting, spitting out the last few remains and washing his hands. He flushed the toilet and blew his nose with a tissue, then found some mouthwash in the cupboard, which he used to get rid of the unpleasant smell.

_idiot idiot idiot idiot IDIOT_

He knew it was bad. It was ungrateful.

_He_ was ungrateful.

Throwing away food like that, when he should be thankful that he even got the chance to eat.

The kid looked himself over and nodded, satisfied with himself. "Uh, Fri, there's no cameras in the bathroom right?"

"Correct. Would you like me to tell Boss?"

"Uh, no, I'm good. Tell Mr. Stark I had to leave early."

"Why?"

Peter racked his brain, trying to think of a decent excuse. "Aunt May called me and wanted me back." He put on his homemade suit and opened the window, looking down.

_Jump._

_It's not going to hurt._

_They'll be better off without you._

_No one cares._

_Worthless _

_Useless_

_Nothing._

He shook his head to try and get rid of the voices, and jumped out, shooting web after web while swinging around, making sure his backpack was on his back.

* * *

"Boss, Peter Parker has left the building."

"What?" Tony snapped his head up, frowning.

"His aunt called him and wanted him back home."

He sighed and nodded, tiredly rubbing his face with his hands. "Okay, that's... that's okay, I guess."

He didn't even need to worry, Peter was fine, the kid told him himself. Peter told him he was tired, and that was a valid excuse, so he backed off. He seemed fine, he was okay, he had to be okay.

The kid was perfectly fine, he did not need to worry.

Not at all.

He was fine.

So why was Tony feeling so _goddamn _worried for a teenage boy who also happened to be Spider-Man?

His gut was telling him that _something_ was wrong, but he wasn't sure what it was. Because Peter was practically perfect, he was always happy and cheerful and smart and always put a smile on Tony's face.

He was _fine_.

He _should_ be fine.

Tony hated not knowing what was wrong, and so he turned to his most reliable coping mechanism: Alcohol. He grabbed a bottle of scotch and started drinking from it in his lab, miserably tinkering on some random object.

His stupid gut was telling him something wasn't right, but he didn't know _what_, and he hated that.

Surely Peter would tell him if something was wrong.

Right?

Yeah. _Yeah, of course he would_, Tony assured himself, taking another swig and sighing.

"_Tony,_" Bruce frowned and walked into his lab, gently prying the bottle from his fingers and placing it far away where said scientist wouldn't be able to reach it. "What's wrong?" Friday had alerted Bruce that Tony was drinking again, thank god, and Stark was salty that Bruce had made him program it into the AI.

"I _don't know_." Tony grumbled, putting his hands up but then flopping it back down to his sides. "Peter's just acting weird and he told me he was tired so I'm like 'okay' but I'm just getting a feeling that _something_ is wrong but he's not _telling_ me anything."

"And you think drinking is going to help?"

"I don't know, Bruce. I don't know what's wrong with Peter, I don't know how to help, I just know _something is wrong _and he isn't even telling me and- he'd trust me, wouldn't he? If something _was_ wrong? He'd trust me enough to tell me, yeah?"

Bruce looked conflicted, between comforting his friend and trying to tell the truth. "I'm sure he would, Tony. But he's a teenager, you gotta remember this, they're more likely to lie about their feelings in order to spare you hurt feelings."

"But he should at least _tell me! _I held back on looking at his file on SHIELD's files but I don't want to invade his privacy-" Tony ran his fingers through his hair frustratedly. The kid was going to make him go grey before he graduated, he just knew it.

"And you're doing the right thing. Give him time, he's just a kid."

"A kid who happens to be Spider-Man."

"A kid nonetheless, Tony. Peter's only like, what, fifteen? He's probably going through some teenage angst, everyone does."

Tony just sighed and nodded, because yes, that makes the most reasonable sense, Peter has to be going through the insufferable teenager angst, like Bruce said, but his gut was screaming at him that _something was wrong._

Nevertheless, Bruce patted his shoulder. "What do you say we have a movie marathon? All of the avengers here? Before we start moving stuff out of the tower?"

"Yeah, yeah sure. Why not?"

* * *

Sorry, shorter chapter than usual and I don't think I did this chapter any justice, oops. I was trying to hurry this chapter up cuz I was thinking, starting the next chapter, Peter would have defeated the Vulture, but i dont know. I need help, maybe comment me some tips or advice idk lmao. Anyways, thanks for 5000 views and 100 follows again thank you so much


	9. Chapter 9

7000 views what the fuck thank you so much

sorry, no review replies, they were all pretty tame and yeah. i know the last chap was a bit of a disaster and it was short too so..

Trigger Warning: overdose and self harm, also blood, suicide attempt

* * *

Two weeks had gone by since defeating the Vulture.

Two weeks had gone by since he started getting nightmares of the collapsing building.

Two weeks had gone by since he refused leaving his house to patrol, to go to school, to eat.

Two weeks had gone by since Aunt May had found out about him being Spider-Man.

Two weeks had gone by since he was put back on for anti-depressant pills.

Two weeks had gone by since he turned down Mister Stark's offer.

One week had gone by since he cut off all contact with the Avengers, refusing to call Tony or Happy.

It had been a disaster couple of weeks, and Peter was so _tired_ of it all.

He had defeated the Vulture. He was going to jail and now Peter had no one stopping him if he were to kill himself.

He looked at himself in the mirror, a sickly pale, with red, angry cuts on his arms and stomach.

One week since May begged him to stop cutting, to convince him to get professional help.

One week since Peter refused to do so.

_God, my life is a mess._

Two weeks since Tony gave Peter his suit back.

It had been weird, actually, seeing the suit again. Peter himself let himself feel excitement, maybe even joy at the thought that he was allowed to wear the suit again. The cheerful voice of Karen was there, but he had not felt anything different after that.

He thought he would've.

This was his suit, he was supposed to be _happy_ with it, so why was he still so _tired_?

He hated it afterwards, wearing the suit. It made him feel disgusting, worthless, like he was a bother and a burden to everyone.

May herself was worried out of her mind for Peter. She had tried everything from bribing him to come out of his room to begging to trying to drag him out of his room. None had worked, of course, and she was getting desperate because this _wasn't the Peter she knew_, he was so much worse than when Uncle Ben had died. This was so much worse, and she had no idea what to do.

_Mister Stark is probably worried about me_.

_Who are you kidding?_

_He'd rather kill himself than deal with you._

_You should kill yourself too, y'know that? _

_So that May doesn't need to be worried anymore._

_New York doesn't need Spider-Man._

_New York doesn't need Peter Parker._

Peter had refused to take his medication at first, telling himself and May that he didn't need it. But he had gotten worse, so much worse, and May finally forced him to take at least one pill a day.

So he stood up and took the pill now, his throat dry for not enough water. He took a small sip and that was enough to let the small pill slide down.

This was all his fault.

He should've listened to Tony and not engage.

But it was all his fault.

His fault that Liz's dad was in prison.

His fault that he makes everyone's lives miserable.

His fault that he's like this.

Because who else would be at fault?

He glared at himself through the mirror, using his fingernails to scratch his arms, forcing the cuts to reopen. Peter smiled to himself, satisfied.

Maybe he wanted to die.

Just maybe.

May wasn't here, it would be so easy to just kill himself right now.

Then no one would have to deal with him anymore.

He watched as the blood dripped down off of his arm and onto the floor, daring himself to let himself bleed out. The kid looked through the medicine cabinet in the bathroom and found a bottle of sleeping pills. He poured a handful into his hand, downed the pills, and headed back to his room, already feeling more tired.

And numb.

He felt numb.

It was a nice type of feeling, and he closed his eyes, feeling relaxed, not caring if he got blood on his sheets.

His heart pounded, and it felt like he could hear it in his ears.

It was okay.

_they dont care_

Not again.

_you're going to die_

_may will be miserable without you._

_no no_

_you can't die_

_you can't die_

_it hurts_

_it hurts it hurts_

_pathetic coward_

_pathetic pathetic pathetic-_

Peter shot up from his bed, not caring if he was dizzy or tired, his arms stung but he couldn't bring himself to care, but god it _hurt so much._

His vision darkened and he saw black dots starting to take over, and he panicked.

_idiot idiot can't even kill yourself properly_

_worthless nothing _

His hands were shaking and he was hyperventilating, it hurt to breathe and it felt like his ears were going to burst any second, it was so _bright_ and loud and make it _stop-_

"Hello? Peter? What's going on?"

Peter almost started sobbing, he didn't even realized that he had called Aunt May, and he couldn't just hang up, his hands were shaking but he couldn't bring himself to do it and his thoughts were all jumbled up and _why was he so dizzy-_

"May- May, I- I-" Peter felt so _tired_ and he couldn't breathe and _why was it so hard to breathe-_ "I can't- I'm sorry- I-I'm sorry- I'm- I'm so sorry I can't May- May please don't- don't-"

"Peter? Oh my god, what did you do?" If Peter had concentrated hard enough he might've heard the panic in her voice, or how she was talking to her boss and tellimg them that she had to leave early.

But Peter had spent too much time caring, and he was just _tired_ and couldn't be bothered more.

"I- I think- I don't know what's happening, May- I-I'm sorry- I- I can't, I can't take it and-"

"Peter, no, you need to stay awake, okay? You're at the house? dammit- stay awake for me, okay?"

"May- I'm sorry- I can't breathe- I can't-" Peter trailed off, his vision being clouded and he finally let his eyes close, hearing the voices congratulating him, and as he calmed down and let himself lose consciousness, the last thing he heard was May begging him to wake up.

* * *

When Peter didn't call him at all on Monday, Tony had thought nothing of it, just assuming that Peter busy studying or hanging out with Ted or Fred or whatever. He had also given back his suit and he thought that Peter was spending time inside of it.

He didn't think of anything odd.

When Peter didn't call him back on Tuesday, he shrugged it off, even though he was hoping the could get some science stuff done together, so that them and Bruce could officially start a Science Bros club.

Again, he assumed everything was okay. Tony didn't think of anything odd or suspicious, though he noticed that Romanov has been asking him more and more about Peter.

He assumed that Peter had charmed Natasha with his sheer cuteness and innocence.

He thought nothing of it.

He sent Happy out to pick up Peter everyday after school, and that's when the man finally told Tony:

"He hasn't been going to school at all."

"What do you mean?"

"He's not there. Wasn't there for the whole last week. I asked his friends about him and they didn't know what happened."

That caused Tony to frown, a slight worried feeling slowly creeping up to him.

But the kid was fine, right?

He had spent the rest of the week debating on whether or not he call Peter, his thumb lingering on the call button, but never pressing it.

And then Sunday came, and Tony had had just about enough of this, and called Peter.

He didn't answer, of course, but Tony's heart almost broke at how happy Peter sounded on voicemail. He had completely forgotten. The man was getting used to Peter's tamer and quieter voice, and Tony was questioning himself on whether or not the kid was okay.

He had to be okay.

Peter wouldn't hide things from him.

...right?

So he mustered up his courage and called Peter's aunt, and thankfully she answered the call.

"Ms. Parker, how are you?"

He could've sworn he heard a sniffle from the woman, before she spoke up.

"What do you want?"

It sounded like she'd been recently crying, but Tony decided not to point it out, and instead answering May's question.

"I was just wondering how Peter was, he hasn't called us or anything and I just wondered, maybe I could speak to him for a bit?..." He trailed off, hearing May let out a small cry, and he had a sick feeling in his stomach.

Nothing bad was happening, right?

Of course not, of course not, Peter was okay, he was safe, safe and sound and-

"He can't talk right now." The woman was able to choke out.

"Why?" Tony was worried, so _goddamn_ worried, what happened to Peter?

Was Peter hurt during a fight? Did he get sick?

Maybe he got sick, that was a reasonable thing to stay home from school from.

But his enhanced metabolism should only let him get sick for at most a few days.

"Peter's at the hospital, he tried to end his life."

* * *

Ned had been worried sick for the entire two weeks since Peter had stopped going to school. He had felt a bit lonely since then, but Michelle was there which made him feel a bit better. MJ was also a badass and had told Flash off at least five times already.

"What's up, loser?" Michelle sat down a little bit away from Ned, but enough to say that she still sat beside him. "Thinking about the other loser?" 'Other loser' meaning Peter, Ned nodded.

"I dunno, he doesn't usually do this. I mean, he did this in middle school a few years ago but he usually told me when he'd leave."

"Don't worry about it, he's probably fine."

Ned shrugged, and MJ pulled out a book and started reading, absentmindedly eating some grapes beside her.

He sighed, he might as well just keep himself busy and eat, Peter would tell him about it once he gets back to school, they're best friends.

And whatever had happened to Pete, he vowed to himself that he'd never leave him, because friends don't do that. No matter what, Ned would support him through thick and thin, because his friend deserved that much.

* * *

idk how to feel, I dunno if I did this story justice at all, and I dunno if you liked that I skipped Peter fighting Toomes. please let me know what you think, sorry for another short chapter :/


	10. Chapter 10

Tenth chapter!

ok first of all, wig, almost 9000 views, y'all are wild, thank you so much for reading this, I never expected this fic to be read as much as it is being read. I really appreciate it. and thank you so much for over 50 reviews, it means so much when you comment and stuff, it motivates me to keep writing and it's just overall so awesome at how many people like the story.

**Lucerious: yeah, May's probably gonna yell, a lot, at Tony and Peter but can you really blame her lol**

**LadyVjara: but that's like,,,, my signature thing, thanks for all the support**

**Thebookworm33: second guessing my decisions are like, my thing, so big oopsies, thanks for the support :)**

To everyone who's reviewed, thank you so much for taking your time to review, even if it's a simple "great job" or something like that, I appreciate it so much.

yeah.

* * *

no.

no.

no no no no no no.

She had to be lying.

She had to.

His Peter would never do such a thing.

He would never.

He was so happy and care-free and always so excited.

She was lying.

Peter was not in a hospital bed.

She was lying.

She _had _to be lying.

His Peter would never...

He'd come for help.

Peter would come to Tony.

Wouldn't he?

"What?" Tony stuttered, unable to believe the words that he was hearing. That only seemed to make the woman even more upset, and now he really started believing what she said.

His Peter tried to kill himself.

The Peter that had stolen Steve's shield multiple times.

The Peter that helped him out in his lab.

The Peter who never stopped asking question.

The Peter who defeated the supplier for alien tech.

The Peter who was also Spider-Man.

The Peter who always got on Tony's nerves.

...

The Peter who has grown on Tony.

He tried to kill himself.

He attempted suicide.

no, no, no, no, no.

None of this was right, Peter was supposed to be the happy and excitable kid. He was supposed to be the kid who annoyed Tony, the kid who got along with the Avengers, the kid who had fun in school and finished LEGO sets in his spare time with his best friend.

None of this made sense.

Tony thought he had established a good relationship with the kid, almost like a father-son relationship.

Well, at least Tony saw him as son. He wasn't sure about Peter.

But..

Why didn't he see it before?

Why?

Why _him_?

Why didn't he see the signs?

he should've been there.

God, how long had the kid been suicidal?

"Stark." May's voice started registering back into his head.

"Y-yeah?"

"What did you say to him?" Her voice was hard, almost accusing, and Tony almost flinched at the tone.

"What?"

"He hasn't.. He hasn't been himself since he 'lost' the 'stark internship'. What did you say to him?"

Tony was genuinely confused, but then realization slowly clicked in and his face fell, his heart aching with guilt and regret.

_"I-I'm sorry," Peter had mumbled quietly, looking down, and Tony's face was hard._

_"Sorry doesn't cut it."_

_"I.. I understand. I just wanted to be like you." he looked up at him, and Stark saw that he was genuine about his apology, but he was still angry at the kid._

_"And I wanted you to be better." Tony saw the flinch that Peter had tried to hide, his expression had darkened and he looked _so guilty. _"Okay, this isn't working out, I'm gonna need the suit back."_

_Peter's head had snapped up, widening his eyes. "For how long?"_

_"Forever." He watched as the kid shook his head frantically, but Tony had assumed that he was just shocked and mad at him. "yeah, that's how it works."_

_"You don't understand," Peter had begged him, tearing up, "please, this is all I have. I-I'm nothing without this suit."_

_"If you're nothing without this suit, then you shouldn't have it. God, I sound like my dad."_

_Tony watched as the kid slowly nodded reluctantly, and the trip back to give him some extra clothes was quiet, and he had assumed that Peter was just mad or angry at him._

God, he screwed up.

Big time.

No wonder he was quieter. Why he looked like a zombie.

Peter hadn't taken his words to heart, did he?

"I-" Tony couldn't answer, his throat felt like it was closing up and _god he felt so guilty why did he never notice?"_

"Stark."

"Can I visit him?" He swallowed the lump in his throat, and he didn't notice the Avengers slowly fill the room as they listened in on the phone call. Natasha had already put the pieces together, and her expression briefly showed her pain and worry before she quickly replaced it with an indifferent expression.

"No."

"Please, May, look, I'm sorry, I am.."

"You don't get to see him, you, you ruined him. He's never fallen this hard, he, was supposed to be better. He was getting better and then you just made him throw months of effort!" She snapped, and she started crying again, sniffling and it broke Tony's heart as he listened to her words over and over again, his guilt even worse than before.

"Please, May. I'm not going to do anything bad, I promise. Please just let me see him. He's- he's like a son to me."

All the Avengers looked at him, stunned. They had all presumed that they were talking about Peter, but hearing that Tony had saw him as a son was shocking, but still not all that surprising. Something had happened to Peter, but what?

"..fine."

Tony let out the breath he didn't even realize he was holding, and it took everything in him to not break down and ask questions.

"Thank you."

"I'll... I'll let the front desk know. You can't screw this up, Stark. He's all I have left. I almost lost him today."

"I-I know. I'm sorry, May. I'll be here for you guys."

May had ended the call, and Tony took a shaky breath as he ran his fingers through his hair, resisting the urge to pull them all out, and finally, Natasha spoke up.

"Did Peter.."

How did she know? How did she _know_ and not Tony?

Still, Tony nodded slightly and the spy's mask had finally broken, and you can see all the pain and shock clear as day on her face.

* * *

_Beep._

_Beep._

_Beep._

_Beep._

_Beep._

_Beep._

Peter grumbled and swatted nothing away, his eyes still closed. Why did he even use his alarm clock anymore?

He opened his eyes slightly, the light blinding him, and he made a small noise and opened his eyes fully, wincing slightly.

He was in a hospital room.

Hospital.

_Hospital_.

May.

_Oh my god, I tried to kill myself._

_And you would've succeeded too, if you hadn't chickened out._

_Coward._

_coward, useless._

He looked down at himself, noticing that his arms were wrapped with nice, clean bandages, and this entire room is so _disgustingly clean_.

He hated the room, he's been here too many times.

He hated the hospital, it reminded him of all the people he disappointed, all the people he didn't save.

It reminded him of how useless he was, and he _hated it. _So much.

The loud noises, the heart monitor, the bright lights, the constant talking of nurses and patients, the cries, all the _pain._

"Peter!"

May.

He began to sit up, the wires attached to his wrist moving slightly, and May ran over to him.

"No, absolutely not, lay back down right this instant." She moved beside him, sitting down on a chair by the bed, and Peter sighed and did as she said, because God forbid you disobey May.

"Hey. Hey..." Peter stuttered quietly, smiling apolegetically at her, and May just smiled back with a sad expression.

"What happened..?"

"I don't know, I was sad."

May stared at him.

"Okay, okay. Well, I don't know, really, it was a small thing Mister Stark said to me and I guess I kinda took it to heart and it spiraled into something like this." He lifted his arms slightly in an attempt to prove something.

"Why didn't you just tell me?"

"I... I don't know, May. I don't know a lot of things. I didn't want to put even more pressure on you."

May sniffled and bent over to hug him, and Peter hugged her back just as tight.

_pity_

_she pities you_

_she wants you to die_

_why didn't you do it?!_

Peter eventually loosens his grip as May pulled away, asking if he was hungry. He had said no, of course, but he was still forced to eat an apple by May. after wards, he was looked at by a doctor, and after, he and May talked over some things, and also explained his entire Spider-Man deal. He had began quieting down though, the voices getting increasingly worse with every minute he spent with May. They cried together and comforted each other.

He didn't deserve this.

He didn't deserve _this_.

Why did she save him?

Pity? Responsibility?

_pathetic, no one would willingly save you._

_she's forced to do everything for you._

Eventually, May's phone rang. She looked at the caller ID and sighed.

"I'm sorry Pete, I need to take this call."

"It's okay. I'll be here..."

May ruffled his hair, smiling sadly, and she answered the call, leaving the room.

Leaving him.

She left.

He was alone.

_you should've taken more pills._

Peter sighed and didn't hold back, and he started crying silently, guilt and regret and dark thoughts taunting him clouding his mind.

* * *

hoped this chapter was okay, let me know what you think! :) I might not update the story tomorrow, so. please review, it motivates me to keep going, thanks again guys for reading this story.


	11. Chapter 11

10,000 views!

I like, I don't even know what to say I'm so genuinely shocked that a story like mine even got up to this point!

I never expected this to happen, thank you guys so so so much for all your support in this story, and how you kept on telling me how you couldn't wait to read the next chapter because by god you guys motivate me so much its amazing! If it weren't by you guys I probably would've dropped this story after three chapters, but I didn't, and that was the most amazing decision I've ever made.

Still, 10,000 views... I'm gonna stop writing this A/N and write more at the end, I have so much more to say. Just, thank you guys.

For everything.

* * *

To say that Tony Stark was disappointed in himself was an understatement.

He was ashamed of himself.

He was ashamed and guilty and it just hurt him to no end that he had let this happen right under his goddamn nose.

He was Tony Stark for god sake, he was supposed to be a genius, he was supposed to be smart, to be a hero.

Instead, if May hadn't saved him, Peter could've been in a wooden coffin buried six feet under, and he would never have known until he had finally mustered up the courage to call and ask why Peter hadn't been visiting.

He thanked whatever gods happened to exist, thanked them for not letting Peter die.

The kid was too young to die, to enthusiastic, and he had his whole life ahead of him.

Peter himself had become a big part in Tony's life, and he didn't know what he would do if he found out that Peter was dead.

Because of him.

Because of something that he did.

Something that he said that was so _idiotic and stupid_ and Jesus Christ he's just so _glad_ that the kid was okay.

He hated himself for not seeing the signs. He had recognized them but he shrugged them off, thinking that it was normal teenager behaviour when Peter had been slowly killing himself while he watched, joking around and making fun of him.

God, what a shitty mentor he was.

The world didn't deserve Peter Parker, but they sure as hell don't deserve to live without him.

"Tony." Natasha spoke softly, and it was weird seeing that side of her, sitting down in the passenger seat beside him and worrying about a fifteen year old Peter. Tony didn't want to bring all the avengers at once, scared that it'll intimidate Peter or worse trigger him even more.

"Nat," He mumbled, pressing a few buttons on the car before letting go of the steering wheel so that it could self-drive. "Did you know?" Tony's voice almost broke, and he avoided her eye contact in order to hold himself back from just breaking down and having a panic attack.

The spy nodded slightly, "Yes. Kind of. I don't know. I was snooping around when I found out. Peter has Major Depressive Disorder and he was having a panic attack when I went to check on him. I didn't know he was also suicidal."

Tony sighed for the fifth time that day. His- the kid had depression.

Fucking depression.

Not just "I'm feeling kind of down today but I'll be back on my feet tomorrow" kind of sadness.

Depression.

Major Depression.

How did he screw up so _badly_?

He was supposed to be his mentor, someone who helped him out, who was there when he needed support.

Instead, he chose to ignore that side of mentoring and instead focused on being the cool, fun adult, someone who always made jokes even in the most tense situations and ignored responsibility.

God, he messed up.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"It wasn't my secret to tell. But if I had known he'd do something like this..." Natasha looked sad, her mask slowly crumbling, and Tony wasn't quite sure how to feel about that.

"Hey, it's not your fault, if anything, it's mine, I should've seen the signs.."

The trip to the hospital was quiet after those exchange of words, but it was a quiet agreement that they would do everything the could to make sure Peter would get better.

* * *

"Peter, some people are here to see you." A kind looking nurse peaked in the room as Peter and May had just finished a conversation about how terrible some of the modern day music was.

It helped him, the first few times he had landed himself in the hospital because his bad thoughts wouldn't leave him alone. It helped to talk to Aunt May, to just talk about random topics, letting his mind focus on other things besides the monsters in his head.

But that wasn't really happening now.

It would help him for a bit, keep him distracted, until the voices became so loud that he couldn't ignore them. But he dealt with it.

It was fine.

He still refused to talk about what had gotten him in this situation in the first place, but May counted this as a step forward.

"Who is it?" Peter asked the nurse quietly, of course, looking away from her, just as he had all the other times he spoke to people. On cue, the two people who he absolutely did not want to find out about him walked into the door.

Tony fucking Stark and Natasha Romanov.

Tony.

_Tony_.

_He cares._

_He cares about you, he even visited you._

Peter glanced up at them, and seeing Tony's expression made him falter and he shot his gaze back down on the blanket that May had gotten for him.

_He was probably forced to come here._

_Stupid stupid Parker thinking anyone cared._

_They all pity you, thEY PITY YOU-_

May looked between the three people and stood up, ruffling Peter's hair gently. "I'll be back, okay? Do you want anything to eat?" She asked softly when Peter's big brown eyes met hers, begging her not to leave him.

"N..no thanks." Peter shook his head and let his head drop again, playing with his fingers and ignoring the slight pull of the wire attached to his wrist.

"I'll be in the hospital, I'm not going to leave you, I promise."

And May walked out the door.

Again.

_Because she can't stand your shit_

_pathetic little brat, as if anyone would actually care_

_they're all doing this because they pity you._

Its not their fault he was like this.

It was his own stupid brain's fault, and he hated it so much.

Natasha was the first to do something, pulling up a chair a little ways away from Peter, her expression unreadable but he probably guessed what she was feeling right now.

_Pity._

_All pity, pity pity_

_because she's forced to do things with you_

_why didn't you do it properly?_

She offered a small smile to Peter, which he returned a nervous smile back before looking back down, ignoring the fact that Tony had pulled up his own chair and was sitting right beside the kid's bed.

Both people stared at him, and it was unnerving, and Peter wished that they would just walk out of the damn room.

"Hey kid," Tony finally spoke, "how are you doing?"

_Shitty, considering I failed to kill myself and now more people pity me more now._

_I feel like crap, I haven't eaten in weeks._

"I'm okay." The kid said quietly, looking down on his fingers. He heard Tony scoff and god that kinda hurt.

He failed Tony.

He disappointed him, he wasn't better, he wasn't like him.

He was a depressed, suicidal little shit who ruined people's lives just by being in the same planet as him.

He was scum.

Useless and worthless, and he hated himself _so much_.

But he desperately made himself believe that he was okay, that he was not depressed, but that he was okay.

Because he hated this, he hated making people pity him, to make people watch how close he is to just losing it and breaking down all his walls that he had so carefully built the last few weeks, hell, since the past two years even.

"What happened to your arms?" Natasha asked, and if Peter had concentrated enough he could make himself believe that she almost had a worried mother's tone, but he didn't want to see them as family figures. If anything, it hurts even _more_, because he's hurting people that he considered his family.

"Freak accident." He said the word "freak" like it was venom, as if he really believed that he was just that: a freak. Both Natasha and Tony flinched slightly.

"Peter..." Tony looked at him, "Why didn't you tell us about," he moved his hands around, "this? Why didn't you tell us? Why didn't you tell me?" He was speaking in a sort of begging tone, as if he wanted to have everything explained to him all in one day.

"I'm sorry, I don't really like strutting around a building telling everyone how fucked up and depressed I am." Peter said sarcastically, instinctively wrapping his arms around himself, thinking it would somehow hide the bandages that proved so.

"You could've told someone! Hell, you could've told Happy, he cares a lot about you, you know."

"Yeah, okay Mister Stark." He wasn't having this.

_They're so disappointed in you._

_Disgrace_

_worthless_

_nothing_

_disappointment_

"Don't 'Mister Stark' me," Tony frowned. "You could've died, and that, frankly, would've been on me for not seeing the signs. That's not gonna look good on my record."

Was he attempting to _joke _about this?

Natasha glared at him, instantly making the man shut up and start his sentence over.

_He doesn't _care.

_How long will it take for you to realize that and get over yourself?_

_idiotic stupid moron_

"Look, kid. I care, a lot," Tony started, leaning over towards him. "And I don't like seeing you like this. Neither of us do. You can talk to us, you know that. There's May and me and Natasha, hell, even Thor and Happy."

Peter stared at him blankly, and Tony wished that he was looking into the happy sparkling eyes that Peter's once was, but instead he looked at a pair of dull brown eyes.

"Okay."

God, why didn't the kid _talk anymore_? It was so unnerving and scary and it just hurts hearing him sound like that. Peter must have noticed how uncomfortable Tony was because he started talking.

"I don't want charity, okay? I just, you said some things and I overthought it way too much to the point where the voices in my brain came back and it just got really bad. It's okay though. Because I called for help after I realized that I was about to kill myself. The doctors are pretty nice, I've had them before, and... I'll be better, I won't be a disappointment."

The entire group fell silent and looked uncomfortable, and Natasha gently placed a hand on Peter's shoulder. The kid flinched slightly, but glanced up at the woman nonetheless.

"You are not a disappointment, and believe us when we say that we are here for you. We look out for our own."

"..okay."

* * *

Time passed way too slowly for Peter's liking, but the two avengers finally said goodbye to him and reminded him once again that they were there for him.

A small weight had lifted off Peter's shoulders, but it felt so insignificant that it hardly made a difference at all.

_They probably had their words scripted._

_Figures. They don't mean it. No one ever does._

Eventually Aunt May came back again with some cheap Chinese takeout that Peter was forced to eat, and he felt a bit more comfortable, even if he always ignored his aunt's questions regarding how he was.

_Why do they still "care"?_

_Don't they realize that I have them figured out?_

_They all think I'm useless, might as well just leave me to try and kill myself again and prove that I'm a disappointment.  
_

But for now, he let himself smile as May talked about her favourite bit in an old television show they used to watch together.

* * *

Wow, man, okay, first off thanks guys so much for the support again, it really means so much to me and its so amazing how this dumb depressed peter parker fic has over ten thousand views. Thanks to all the reviewers, thanks to all who've followed and favourited the story, you guys are truly the best.

As always, let me know what you think about this chapter, review and follow!


	12. Chapter 12

69 reviews as of writing this at 5:33 pm after procastinating and ended up not posting yesterday and the day before. Nice.

But seriously, sorry for no chapters during those days, didn't really feel inspired. Plus I wanted to have a drawing project done. It was a picture of Peter drinking boba tea. I'm so proud.

Trigger Warning: Panic Attack

* * *

Peter jolted awake, breathing heavily as he woke up from the second nightmare he had that night. He hadn't been able to fall asleep until two in the morning, and had convinced May to go sleep in their apartment for the night. He was all alone.

Well, maybe save for Tony who had visited Peter earlier that night just to check in with him.

He would never admit it, but he was thankful that Tony looked out for him, even if he was just a burden and that he was doing it for pity.

But Tony wasn't there when Peter woke up this time. The first nightmare he had Tony was there, half asleep, but the man had snapped wide awake after realizing that the kid was awake too. He tried to have him talk about it, but Peter refused, and did not meet his concerned eyes. He had finally been able to fall asleep afterwards, perhaps twenty after two, and he couldn't see the clock nor did he have his phone with him, so he couldn't quite tell what time it was.

Knowing himself, though, it had probably only been a few minutes after he'd fallen asleep.

He was alone and it was dark.

Peter shook his head, trying to push away the horrible thoughts that had already begun attacking his mind, sitting up and squeezing his blanket tight.

He was not about to cry.

He didn't cry when Tony Stark was there.

He isn't going to cry again.

_no reason to cry_

_no reason no reason_

_just a pathetic little baby_

Peter's chest tightened and he squeezed his eyes shut in concentration, only to be reminded of the faithful night of Homecoming, when he was trapped under a collapsed building.

It was dark.

It was too dark.

He opened his eyes and he looked around in panic.

He was _fine_.

His throat was dry and it felt like his heart was going to explode but he was fine, he was okay.

So why were the ceiling and walls closing in on him?

_wimp_

_pathetic_

_useless_

_idiot_

_crazy_

He gulped, panting because of lack of water, and pushed himself back on the bed, onto the headboard. His back hit it with a small thump and he felt like he was choking, and it was so dark and why couldn't he _breathe-_

Peter covered his head with his arms, an attempt to protect himself from what he thought was the ceiling, and he let out a small sob, realizing in horror that he was crying.

He was _crying_ and the walls were closing in and he couldn't breathe and he ran his fingers through his hair, trying to ground himself and he pulled at it, letting out another choked cry.

_can't even calm yourself down._

_this is why they don't want you._

_you'd only slow them down._

_you were right to decline the offer._

_because you're useless to them._

He felt like his heart would burst, and he was aware of all the sounds in the hospital; a patient's laboured breathing, quiet steps upstairs, whispered conversations, a baby crying.

And his heart rate monitor.

It pierced his ears, and he almost couldn't hold back a scream, because it was so _loud _and his ears were about to bleed and _please please please help me im going to die im going to die it hURTS-_

And none of it stopped, the monitor kept the annoying steady beat, there was always a click clack somewhere upstairs, and his senses were going all over the place, even when he was trying to ground himself he would cry from his own touch, and he _hated it_, hated it to the point where _maybe he deserved this, _he deserved this and he deserved to die from this and-

_stupid_

_stupid stupid stupid_

_faiLURE-_

Peter's senses screamed at him, and he cried in pain as he felt someone wrap their arms around him, awkward but comforting, but he couldn't stop, he couldn't stop crying and his ears were about to burst and he could barely comprehend the person's words.

He struggled against the hold afterwards, kicked and moved around wildly in a panic and begged him to stop, to let him go, to stopped touching him but the person just wouldn't _listen,_ and he cried and begged until he forced himself to open his eyes, only to stare at one Tony Stark.

Tony Stark.

Genius, playboy, billionaire, philanthropist Tony _fucking _Stark was watching him have a panic attack and was trying to comfort him and he just _screamed_, the voices blocking out any other sound and just focusing on one word.

_embarrassment._

_embarrassment embarrassment embarrassment embarrassment embarrassment-_

And Peter couldn't hear anything else, it hurt too much to listen to anything else, especially once he realized that the man he had looked up to his whole life, the man he disappointed, the man he failed, was watching him have a panic attack.

He _cried_, trying to pull away, and his hearing came back and all he heard was the high pitched monitor and everything else was just a blur, he felt like he was drowning, felt like everything around him was going to collapse, he felt like he was going to _die_-

"Peter, PETER! I need you to listen to me, okay? Can you hear me?" Tony had finally managed to grab hold of the kid's shoulders, and even though he was still struggling to get away from the man, he seemed to acknowledge his words. Once Tony figured out that the kid's twitch was actually a nod, he continued speaking.

"You gotta stop hyperventilating, alright? You're gonna pass out if you do," he took hold of Peter's hand, and the kid flinched and tried to pull away in a panicked manner, but Tony kept a good grip on him. "Can you follow my breaths for me? Can you listen to me?"

And his heart _broke_ every time he heard a sniffle, or a cry, or any noise coming from Peter that proved that he was in pain, proved that he needed _help_. The kid finally nodded shakily, before taking a shaky breath and falling into another set of streaming tears and panicked fighting.

Tony didn't know what to do. Well, he did, Pepper had helped ground him multiple times when he had his own panic attacks, hell, even Rhodey and Steve had helped him a couple of times, but he wasn't experienced at being on the _helping_ end. He was just going by his gut feeling, and he hoped that was enough because _god he can't lose this kid_, he deserved so much more, had his whole future ahead of him and it was all his fault for getting him in this situation in the first place-

Focus. Tony took a deep breath, telling himself that he needed to chill, that a fifteen year old kid needed _help_.

Peter surprisingly copied Tony's breath, though, his chest shaking slightly, and he was still hiccuping, but he made no move to start struggling again, and Tony let himself smile slightly, still holding onto the kid's shoulders.

"Good job, kiddo. One more time," They inhaled and exhaled at the same time, and kept repeating the process until Tony grabbed a box of tissues to gently wipe Peter's tears away.

Peter had stopped crying, save for a few hiccups here and there, and a stray tear falling down his face once in a while, and he didn't want to look into his mentor's eyes, afraid.

Afraid of seeing disappointment in his eyes, afraid of seeing the anger in his eyes, afraid.

afraid afraid afraid.

_pathetic_

_afraid afraid afraid_

_coward coward coward_

He avoided looking up at him as the man cleaned his face, and he wondered to himself, _when had Tony become so... caring?_ He mentally shook his head, a voice coming back to berate him for even thinking such a way, before Tony spoke up softly.

"Look up at me."

Peter relunctantly did so, glancing up at him as the man continued to wipe his face, occasionally going back to get a clean tissue. He tilted his head gently, and that's when he noticed.

His eyes were filled with nothing but worry and concern.

Tony cared about him.

He truly _cared about him_.

Nothing about the voices in his head could tell him otherwise, and he was even more scared than before.

He _cared_, that was terrifying, he was putting Tony in danger, because he had managed to care about him.

He was _hurting _Tony, hurting him for being like this, and he hated himself for even failing to kill himself all those times before.

If he had succeeded in the past, Tony would never have met him, and he never would have needed to worry about some dumb suicidal teenager.

If he had succeeded yesterday, Tony would never have had to see him panic like this, he would never have had to watch him destroy himself.

He never should have let Tony get to know him, never should've let Tony _see him_, because now the man cared about him, and it was all his fault and he was _disgusted _at himself for letting his mentor watch him fall apart.

His _mentor._

His mentor, not his dad.

God, he thought of Tony as a dad, he really was going crazy.

"I-I'm sorry..." Peter mumbled quietly, looking back down as Tony finished with his face and took a sip of water.

"What?" The kid flinched at the tone, and spoke in an even quieter tone, one where Tony had to lean in to hear him.

"I'm, I'm sorry for this," he gestured to himself, "I'm sorry that you had to help me. I'm sorry I'm weak."

"You've got to be kidding me," Tony sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, and Peter looked at him. It only made him feel even guiltier, noticing the man's dishevled clothing, sensing an upcoming headache for Tony.

His mentor sat down beside his hospital bed, looking at him in the eyes. "You know how many times I've had panic attacks?" The kid shook his head, "me neither. But I've had them. Do you think I'm weak?"

"No, no of course not."

"Neither have you. Trust me, kid, Pepper could tell you all the times I've snapped and just broke down and cried all over her expensive dresses. It's okay to have panic attacks. It happens, it's okay."

Peter thought over his words carefully, a small weight being lifted off his chest, but still so much that it didn't even make a difference.

"Why are you here? Helping me?"

"You deserve it." Tony said simply, leaning back on his chair and crossing his arms. Peter wanted to tell him all the reasons of why he was wrong, how he was so _wrong,_ that he didn't even deserve to be _here._ To be here, with Tony and May and he just doesn't deserve _anything._

A silence passed, before Tony spoke again.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

"Okay. That's okay." And the man gave him a small smile and ruffled Peter's hair slightly. "Go get some sleep, kiddo."

* * *

I actually like this chapter, big woah, hopefully I managed to fill your irondad and spideyson needs for now, even if this was an angsty one. Hopefully I also did the panic attack more believable and shit, let me know!

review and favourite! :)


	13. Chapter 13

Fourteen thousand views, thanks guys! You guys are truly the best.

* * *

Tony looked at the sleeping kid in front of him, sighing tiredly.

He was not cut out for this kind of thing.

He never was.

If you had told him that he was going to take care of a fifteen year old kid with suicidal tendencies, he would have never believed you.

He still didn't want to believe it either.

It was hard to take it all in, knowing that the Spider-Man was just a child, and said child was laying down on a hospital bed and sleeping.

Spider-Man had panic attacks.

God, he was never going to be able to forgive himself.

Someone that young shouldn't be able to experience something like that, and they sure as hell mess with your head. The attacks and the aftermath. He so desperately wanted to somehow protect Peter, to somehow make sure that he was going to be okay, that he was gonna be fine and healthy, just so that his heart could calm down and stop pounding in his chest.

Because he was just a kid.

A kid who never should have had to fight the other avengers, a kid who fought crime everyday, a kid who had to face school.

Because kids sucked, especially teenagers, and Tony knew damn well how much they sucked, and he couldn't imagine how Peter must've felt whenever he came to school, when he had fallen this hard.

This was all his fault. His fault that Peter was in the hospital in the first place, his fault that everything that had happened to him so far happened.

But he had to be here for him.

He had to be there for him.

He had to.

He couldn't just straight up and leave the kid's life, he knew that it was going to be horrible for the both of them, and he really didn't want the kid to have another attempt.

He couldn't bear to lose another person in his life, especially someone as important as Peter Parker, because he really didn't know what he was going to do if he lost him.

The kid meant too much to him.

The kid was going to be okay. He was going to make sure of it.

Tony would make sure that he'd be okay, or else he'll be old and gray before the next month.

It wasn't fair, wasn't fair how he had to go through something like this, that Peter had to be in a hospital bed constantly questioning his decisions.

It wasn't fair, not fair not fair...

But thinking of ways that he could've stopped it from happening didn't help. He was already there, in the hospital. The most he could do is to have a nap before Peter woke up again. Come to think about it, he hadn't slept much at all this week.

So he sort of slouched in his chair, crossing his arms and taking off his glasses, placing them neatly on the nightstand. Tony looked at Peter one last time, before closing his eyes and falling asleep.

* * *

When Peter woke up, it was six in the morning. The kid sat up and rubbed his eyes tiredly, catching a glance at his reflection in the mirror.

As far as yesterday went, he had gotten some colour back into him, though he still had large dark bags under his eyes and looked like a twig. He noticed that his face felt clean, probably cleaner than it had been several weeks ago, and let a small, unsure smile grace his lips, before his face fell again, remembering what had happened last night.

Last night he had a panic attack and cried all over Tony, who had to help him.

Tony cared about him, he remembered.

He remembered and it was painful when he realized that he _cared._

It was awful.

He couldn't have someone like Tony care about him.

His mentor was too important, he had better things to do than to worry and care about some dumb teenager who happened to be a little sad sometimes.

He glared at his reflection, eyes brimming up with tears as he realized what he thought of Tony last night.

He thought of him like a dad.

Like a father figure.

Peter had never felt more ashamed and disgusted with himself in his life. He had promised himself, ever since Uncle Ben died, he promised himself he wasn't going to let himself be close to anyone again. Just close enough for them to be considered friends, but not enough to be considered honorary family members.

This entire thought train was scaring Peter, scaring him out of his mind, and he felt sick, because he couldn't let another father figure to die.

Because of him.

His father died, his Uncle died, he couldn't let Tony get close to him. It hurt too much, reminded him of bad memories that he'd rather forget. Reminded him of how he failed to save Ben. Reminded him that he disappointed Tony every day.

He was a disappointment.

That was all he was.

_disappointment_

_waste of space_

_don't belong_

_don't deserve_

_never deserved this_

_deserve to die_

_useless_

_disappointment_

Peter looked around, and noticed Tony's disheveled appearance, and guilt crawled up his spine, noticing that Tony too had bags under his eyes.

God, he was terrible.

He was supposed to make Tony feel proud and there he was sitting down on a bed while his fa- mentor was sitting in a chair.

He was supposed to be okay, supposed to be Spider-Man, supposed to be a _hero_.

Instead he was the one who needed saving, and he hated that about himself.

He needed to be _saved_, but he refused it, he could help himself, he was sure of it. Even when Uncle Ben died, Peter refused to seek professional help, thinking that he'd be able to handle all the guilt and regret and numbness all on his own.

Fast forward to a few months after his death, he was a mess, and almost bled out in the bathroom, terrifying Aunt May to bits.

_What a hero you are, Peter_.

Peter sniffled quietly, shaking his head, as if it made all the thoughts go away, and it didn't go unnoticed by Tony. In an instant, the man woke up and sat up straight.

"You okay kid?"

How was he supposed to answer _that_?

_Yeah, I'm fine. Just, you know, wanting to die._

_Yeah, I just feel empty but I'm okay._

_Yeah, I just want to go back to sleep and never wake up again._

"Yeah, I'm fine." His voice came out as raspy, and his throat felt dry. He flinched when he heard his own voice.

_pathetic pathetic pathetic pathetic_

Tony let out an annoyed huff and stood up, grabbing bottled water and handing it to the kid, who accepted it and began drinking it greedily. After a few seconds, he finally stopped chugging and took a much needed breath.

He felt refreshed. Still numb and sad but refreshed nonetheless.

"You're not fine, Peter." Short and not sweet, but it was true. Tony could see that he wasn't fine, that he needed help. If only Peter would accept it.

"Yeah?"

"Well for one, you're still refusing to eat," Tony crossed his arms, grabbing the bottle from him. Peter looked away from him guiltily, playing with his bandage rather than answering. "You need to eat _something_. Look, I can make you a deal."

Peter looked up at him, confused, but nodded slowly, encouraging him to go on.

"You can hang out with us for a while. At the compound upstate. Your room is still there. And you'll be safer there than in the hospital."

"So you're putting me on suicide watch?" Peter frowned, and Tony winced slightly at the name.

"Well, no. You're still allowed to go out. Hang out with friends, patrol as Spider-Man. I just... I think it's best for you right now. You're not completely there yet. You're not.."

"I'm not normal. I'm not okay."

"Pete..." Tony sighed, realizing that this was going to be a lot harder than he initially thought. He was worried, he knew that the kid would hate being kept in the compound, but he felt like that was the only way he can ensure that he wouldn't cut himself again, that he wouldn't starve, that he wouldn't...

That he wouldn't try to take his life again.

He couldn't let that happen.

"Okay."

"What?"

"I said 'okay'. Besides, I don't really have much of a choice, and I don't want you to keep worrying about me."

_I'll always care about you, Peter. Too fucking late to say that._

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

* * *

shorter chapter, sorry. Idk if this one was good, lemme know what you think. see yall, review and favourite :)


	14. Chapter 14

sorry for not updating for a couple days. Needed a break. Maybe I'll just update maybe once or twice a week or something. Thanks for all the support so far, though! really appreciate it! :)

* * *

Peter rested his head against the car window, listening to music with earbuds in, not caring about the fact that Mister Stark was most definitely staring at him in some sort of concern.

They were going back to the compound.

God, why did he even agree in the first place? He never should've, it would only be harder on Tony and himself.

Great, now his mentor had to look after an unstable, depressed teenager.

That's gonna work out well, considering Mister Stark's temper.

It's not like he really had a choice, anyway. At least with them, he could probably give them some false sense of comfort and relief knowing that Peter would be "safe" in their hands.

And it's not like they knew the extent of his... let's call them habits for now.

They left a few hours after Tony had calmed him down from Peter's little panic attack, and they were just driving away from Aunt May's apartment. The two had exchanged words and promises to be safe for each other.

Peter doubted that he would keep that promise for very long.

But he had to try, for May.

Because May was the only one he had left. His only living family member. And with everything going on in her life recently, he couldn't bear letting May know all the times he'd broken his promises.

Because May didn't deserve it.

She didn't deserve to take care of an attention seeking coward every day.

At least if he was with the Avengers, then he'd be okay.

She would be okay.

She would be safe without him.

Because Peter was always a trouble magnet, and that's the reason why everything bad happened to him, how he had to watch his uncle bleed out on the sidewalk.

And people just _watched_.

They didn't help. They _couldn't_, and the ambulance never reached him on time and he was irresponsible and _weak_.

Just like he was right now.

_weak_

_irresponsible_

_useless_

_coward_

He remembered everything, too. He remembered every single detail. How the blood stained the sidewalk after Ben had been shot, how the sun was shining too brightly into Peter's eyes, how Peter tried so hard to keep Ben alive by applying pressure to the shot.

But it wasn't enough.

_He _wasn't enough.

He was never enough, and that was how his life was.

People close to him _die_, and it was his fault.

_irresponsible_

_immature_

_immature_

_immature immature immature-_

Peter sensed another panic attack coming, and he squeezed his eyes shut and turned up the music to block out the rest of the sound that New York had to offer.

Sure, his ears hurt like hell now, but it was better this way. It gave his mind something to focus on instead of panic that would eventually catch up to him.

He was okay.

For now.

He was okay.

"Jesus, Parker, I can hear your music. What are you listening to?" Tony looked at Peter, amused. The teen stared blankly out the window before sensing that his mentor was looking at him, and turned his head around, taking off his earphones.

"Wha? Sorry, I wasn't listening.."

"Clearly not," ouch, that hurt a bit. It was an innocent quip but it still hurt pretty badly. "I was wondering what song you were listening to?"

"Oh, its... its nothing, just... just some beats."

"'some beats?'"

"Like... music with the... nevermind."

Tony nodded slowly, staring at him awkwardly before paying attention to the road, turning up his own radio, with AC/DC blasting through the speakers. Peter looked down and messed with his hand, picking off stray skin on his fingers and watching blood slowly drip out of them.

It was weird, you'd never expect that much blood coming out of a tiny hole in your finger. It was pretty though, beautiful shade of red, and he wiped it off on his pant leg.

He was fine.

He was okay.

It was all okay.

"Hey Mister Stark, sir?" Peter turned down the dial on the radio to a comfortable volume, and Tony gave him a fake pout. "Where are we going?"

"Getting some food in you, obviously." The kid realized that they were driving towards a McDonald's, and he felt his stomach churn but he nodded numbly.

"Oh, okay."

Tony stared at him for a bit more, and even though Peter couldn't quite tell what the expression on his face was, he knew that the man was probably trying to see if Peter was really "okay."

Which he is.

Because he had to be.

"Something on your mind, kid?"

Peter hesitated, debating on whether or not to just deny it, or to make a lousy excuse and try and make conversation. He could also just tell the entire truth as to what was wrong with him, what he hated most about himself, but he wasn't gonna do that.

This is Peter we're talking about.

"Uh, yeah, actually," the kid fumbled around with his earphones, wrapping them around his phone and shoving them in his pocket. "Uh... where's Happy? Isn't he supposed to be the one... you know... driving?"

Tony let out a laugh, and Peter let himself smile of embarassment. "I figured, I dunno, that you'd like less people in the car."

Peter looked at Tony with a sort of shocked expression. He had considered him. Tony considered Peter's feelings while doing things.

Tony _cared._

And he felt sick about it.

So _so_ sick, because Tony shouldn't have to care about someone like him, someone who's messed up.

He felt _sick_, because he didn't want Tony to get close. He was already too close.

Too close.

So so close.

He _hated it_, felt sick, felt like he just wanted to curl up into a small ball and cry, because he couldn't bear watching another person he _cared about_ die in front of him.

Tony didn't deserve this, didn't deserve to watch some kid self destruct.

_he would rather die than be with you_

His thoughts were wrong, so _disgustingly_ wrong, because his mentor _did _care about him, he _wanted_ to be with the kid, and that meant getting closer, and he couldn't stand it.

But it was fine.

He was okay.

Peter was okay.

He had to be okay.

He wasn't going to cry, he was fine.

He was going to force himself to eat to make Tony happy.

It was okay, he could do this.

He listened to the voice of Tony Stark and closed his eyes in attempt to calm his racing minds, listening as his mentor ordered food for the both of them.

* * *

sorry, a bit of a shorter chapter but thats because I've been procastinating, sorry. Please review and favourite this story, leave some constructive criticism, thanks for reading!


	15. Chapter 15

thanks for your support guys, hope you like this chapter.

* * *

After eating two burgers and a bunch of fries, Peter felt sick.

Not the "oh no, I ate too much" type of sick.

But the "god I'm so disgusting I'm going to throw up" kind of sick.

He had eaten way too much, too much and his body wasn't used to it after so many weeks without food, that it was protesting against it.

But he let himself feel his stomach churn, ignored the flips in made when they drove over speed bumps, tried to ignore the pounding in his head and the taste of bile that occasionally came up every once in a while, but he took it.

Because he couldn't let Tony know that he couldn't even eat a simple meal.

It was way too much.

Tony had gotten him too much, too much food, and now it was going to go to waste when they got to the tower.

_disgusting pig_

Peter took a deep shuddering breath, trying to keep his mouth closed in case his stomach threatened to throw itself up, and Tony looked at him with a confused expression, stopping at a red light.

Did he do something wrong again?

He always did.

He always did something wrong and he's probably disappointed again-

"Peter, you alright?"

The kid opened his mouth to speak, but his stomach began doing little flips once Tony started driving again, and he had to swallow down the bitter taste that was clawing at his throat, squeezing his eyes shut. He winced when he opened his eyes again, but finally answered;

"Yeah, yeah I'm alright."

Tony sighed and took another good look at the teenager sitting beside him, taking in the fact that he looked even paler than before, making his dark bags even more pronounced. He almost looked like a skeleton, and he shuddered, because he knew that Peter was losing more weight by the second, and he imagined that he barely even had any fat on his arms left.

He probably had something else across his arms too, and Tony felt awful for that, awful that he had let something like this happen to Peter.

He felt awful for letting the kid fall down so far.

He had no idea how he was going to bring Peter back up to his usual cheerful self, and he was afraid; afraid that he was going to mess up again, and it would be permanent.

He didn't want Peter to let go; the kid meant to much. To him and to the world.

He looked at the road for a while, trying to gather his thoughts, occasionally opening his mouth to speak only to close it again, and Tony hated how he didn't know what to say.

He was Tony Stark; he didn't know how these things worked, he was always on the receiving end of things and now that he was supposed to be the helper it scared him, because there were so many things that could go wrong if he lost sight of the kid.

Tony finally understood what Pepper had meant one day during the aftermath of one of his panic attacks. _"Please stop using alcohol as your coping mechanism," _she had said, and had took away a bottle of brandy out of his hands.

_"I'm fine, Pep, don't worry,"_ Tony had given her one of his stupid dopey grins, and she only laughed and shook her head, patting his hair.

_"Well, I don't want to come here one day to find out you weren't fine,_" She muttered, and Tony had just shrugged it off as her being a worry rat, but he got it now.

She had been scared that he was going to do something that would risk his life, or something that could be dangerous to him and self in-flicted.

He aught to apologize to Pepper soon.

For a whole lot of stuff.

Tony stared at the road for a while longer until he noticed Peter looking at him. Unfortunately, he was never really able to read anyone's faces, so it was hard to tell what the kid was trying to communicate. But he looked into his eyes, and they just held so much _hurt_, so much _loneliness_, and Tony vowed to himself that he was going to do everything to protect his kid.

His kid.

He wasn't going to even correct himself on that; this was Peter, this was his kid, he was responsible for him.

So he lay a hand on Peter's arm for comfort, and the kid looked at him and tilted his head, and tried to pull away, but Tony grabbed his arm and gently pulled him back.

"It's okay, you're okay. You're fine."

Those words seemed to echo in Peter's brain, and he believed them, he believed that he was fine, that he was okay, that he was normal. He hated being like this, hated to always believe what people told him, what the voices told him, and they were telling him that he was fine, that there was nothing wrong with him, and it was toying with his feelings-

but right now, he was with Tony, and that was all that mattered.

When Tony finally parked the car, he pulled out the key, letting out a breath and chancing a look at his kid. Peter was sleeping, of course. He had fallen asleep, finally let himself get engulfed by the darkness and surrounded him until he felt too tired to open his eyes anymore.

Tony let himself smile a bit, looking at Peter fondly, running his fingers through his soft curls and feeling his heart break the more he stared at the kid's broken form. He had thought to himself for a brief second to roll up Peter's sleeves, to see just how bad he had truly fallen, but he couldn't do that. He couldn't risk losing his trust and hurting the kid even more.

He decided against waking Peter up, as he knew that he would never forgive himself for it, but he couldn't carry him. He wasn't as flexible as he was before.

So he sighed and put on his glasses, still looking at the teenager in front of him.

"FRIDAY, get Spangles down here."

"You got it, boss."

* * *

sorry, sorry, short chapter again, im super sorry. please review and favourite though, if you don't mind. just stressed out because school is strating in a month for me


	16. Chapter 16

wow, almost a hundred favourites, guys, thanks!

* * *

When Steve went downstairs to the place where Tony was parked, he didn't know what to expect. Hell, he didn't even know what he was expecting. Friday had told him that Tony was outside parked with Peter, and that he requested the Captain's presence.

He expected at least that Peter would be a little worse for wear, but that was it. Steve didn't expect him to look like a skeleton.

He didn't expect the kid to look like a zombie.

He didn't expect anything _too_ bad.

Because this was just a kid. This was just Peter. This was Spider-Man.

The kid had always been so happy enthusiastic, and was more than willing to help Steve when he had trouble with the computer or his phone that he complained about being too high tech for his liking. This was the kid who had managed to support an airplane ramp that Steve dropped on him, and even though he felt guilty that he had done such a thing, he still felt proud of Peter, because what he said while he was there was true.

Peter had heart. And Steve knew that from miles away, since he had his shield temporarily stolen from him. He recognized how loyal the kid was, how determined he was to make Stark proud.

He would've never expected Peter to look worse than what he could ever imagine happening to the kid.

Who would? No one, not even a teenager should go through what Peter has gone through.

Rogers was the one who recommended that Peter should stay with them after they had found out what he tried to do, and everyone agreed, even Natasha.

So he should've expected that, knowing that Peter had tried to kill himself, that the kid would be a little bit more run down.

But it wasn't in the way he imagined.

When Steve exited the elevator and made his way to the car, Tony spotted him and exited, nodding at Steve in a way of greeting. The supersoldier took notice of Tony's face, looking way older than he was, and his hair was messier than the last time he had seen the inventor. He couldn't help but look at his friend in concern, but Stark waved him off.

"I'm fine, Cap, relax. It's Pete you should be worried about." Tony said, taking off his glasses to clean them with his shirt. Steve raised an eyebrow at him.

"Why'd you ask for me? And where even is Peter?" He asked.

"Yeah, yeah, give me a moment. You have to be quiet, though, Jesus you're loud." Tony walked over to the passenger side. Steve knew he ought to feel hurt by the remark, but this was Tony, and he was always joking around. But he did make sure he spoke in a quieter tone, because from what he'd learned since Peter came into their lives, anything that Tony said regarding about the kid was true.

When the inventor opened the door, Steve had tried to cover up the shock on his face, but completely failing.

Peter looked like a damn twig. He reckoned that if the wind was strong enough, it could probably blow Peter away and take him into some, unknown land.

The kid was also extremely pale, and he felt sick, because even with his eyes closed and looking peaceful in his sleep, he could still see the dark bags under his eyes. But that wasn't all, because Steve also saw a bit of Peter's sleeves raised up.

And he felt sick. He felt guilty, he felt _sad_.

Any other day before this one, Steve might've believed that what he saw was a trick in the light, but now, after with his newfound knowledge, he saw a couple red, angry lines on his wrists that seemed to stand out from his own pale skin.

This was Peter.

He was supposed to be happy.

He was supposed to be _training_ with this kid and now he's asleep looking one foot inside the grave with cuts in on his arms.

And he couldn't help but feel like he was responsible for some part of this. As an unofficial leader, Steve was supposed to watch out for his teammates, and make sure that they were all healthy and well enough to be part of battles and fights.

Why didn't he notice?

He should've recognized something was wrong, from the minute that Peter walked in the building three weeks ago, he should've realized. He should've realized how tired he look, how much weight he'd lost and how calm he seemed since his past visits.

But he didn't notice, and as a leader;

well, Steve felt guilty.

Tony seemed to have noticed the cuts, too, and Steve assumed that it was his first time seeing them, because he heard his friend take a sharp intake of breath. When he turned to look at him, he looked so incredibly upset that the soldier felt even worse, because now he caused Peter _and _Tony pain for not realizing sooner. Rogers looked at him sympathetically and placed a gentle hand on the inventor's shoulder.

His friend glanced up at him, and took a breath to try and steady his voice. Tony's tears were welling up in his eyes and he didn't want to cry, not in front of Steve. "I need you to carry him."

Steve blinked when he remembered that he went down here to help Tony, and looked at him, surprised at how quiet and gentle his tone was. "Can't you do it yourself?"

"Look, Spangles, yeah, he's skinny as hell but I'm not as strong as I used to be. Plus. I don't want to wake Peter up. He didn't get much sleep last night and he just had a panic attack before he left the hospital, he needs the sleep." Steve gave him a pointed glare for making a joke about the kid's health, and sighed, nodding in understanding.

Alright, alright," The soldier bent down to pick Peter up carefully, making sure not to jostle him, and was even more surprised and visibly upset. After completely getting the kid in his arms, Tony closed the door quietly and headed back towards the building.

Tony looked at Steve in concern, having seen the expression on his face when he lifted his kid up. When they got to the elevator, he whispered to him: "What's wrong?"

Steve hesitated for a minute, deciding whether or not he should tell him what had made him sad and upset.

"He weighs like nothing, Tony."

The inventor looked at him, puzzled, before laughing awkwardly, hoping that he was exxagerating. "I know you're a super soldier and all but-"

"No, I'm serious." Steve stared at his friend, "he's probably no lighter than eighty- maybe ninety pounds?"

Tony's breath hitched, "that's still pretty heavy..." he mumbled quietly, but the joking manner had disappeared, and the man looked like he was seconds away from crying, or killing someone, or both.

Before Steve could say something to reassure his friend, the elevator dinged and opened its doors.

* * *

I'm thinking of maybe ending this story in between chapters 20-25, I don't want this fic to go longer than it has to be.

what do you think?

review and favourite!


	17. Chapter 17

sorry for not updating, i'd like to give some family related excuse but nothing bad happened, instead i was procastinating. sorry.

On a happier note, thanks for 100 favourites!

* * *

It's been a few hours since Steve had brought Peter to his room and left him to sleep peacefully, and May Parker was at the tower, sitting down in front of Tony to tell him about what he could expect and threatening him in case he ever hurt Peter. All the Avengers were listening to her intently, not wanting to miss a thing, in case they mess up somehow.

May had been worried sick on the drive to the tower, worried and scared and just so upset that Peter had tried to do it again. She had made him promise, made him promise that he'd never do something like that again, yet he still did that and she almost cried on the way over to the compound. She didn't cry, of course, didn't cry when she cleaned up the blood from Peter's sheets, didn't cry when she looked at the empty bedroom that was Peter's. She had to be strong for him, and she was going to try her hardest to make sure her nephew was okay, and that Tony wouldn't over work him or say something bad to Peter to make him fall even worse.

Though she was a bit hesitant on giving out information about Peter's past experiences, Stark told her that it would be best, so that they could understand a bit more. She had reluctantly agreed to do so, and remembered when she first started noticing the changes after Ben had died.

"My... My husband died a a little bit after Peter's fourteenth birthday," May began, and that's how they spent the past two hours. With May explaining the events of what led to Peter having his first attempt, to now. May explained about how she got Peter to finally speak up to her, how she finally got Peter to eat and slowly build back up to the appetite he once had, back to the healthy weight he once was. She blew her nose a couple of times and Tony and the rest of the crew comforted May to the best of their ability, promising her that they wouldn't let anything bad happened to the boy.

Clint, feeling awkward after a long time with the serious talking, spoke up, even though he was still concerned about Peter. He hid it though, by saying, "so, just to lighten up the mood, do you have any funny childhood stories about our favourite web head?"

May gave him a weak chuckle and gestured everyone to come sit on the couch, picking up a cup of tea that Vision had so kindly made for them. She took a sip and nodded, thinking about some of her favourite times. The group laughed as she told them stories, and inserted comments there once or twice. Tony was glad that this was a sort of distraction for him, to let himself be a little bit at ease while Peter was sleeping a couple rooms away. he didn't even flirt with her once.

After a while of chatting and being lighthearted, May began feeling tired, and excused herself, placing the cup back onto the coffee table. She apologized for leaving but Tony waved her off, telling her that it was okay and that they'll take good care of her nephew. She sure hoped so, and she hoped that Peter would call her at least once a week. May thanked Tony, telling him that he was the best thing that has happened to Peter in a while. He trusted him, and hoped that her judgement would prove to be right. She waved goodbye to the rest of the avengers, and headed towards the car, also saying goodbye to Happy Hogan, who opened the door for her in a flustered manner.

She headed inside her car and just sat in there for a while, her head reeling with emotions. May's walls slowly became crumbling down and she locked the door, resting her head on her steering wheel as she finally cried all her pent up emotions out.

* * *

When Peter woke up, he felt like he was floating on a cloud. He slowly opened his eyes and realized that it was quite the opposite, and was actually laying down in a super soft bed.

He groaned and sat up, rubbing his eyes tiredly. He was surprised, because he had thought he'd be woken up by a nightmare like he had in the past.

Instead, he felt refreshed. Still tired and starving, but refreshed nonetheless.

He tried to remember what happened, as he could probably tell that this was not his apartment back in Queens. He racked his head as he tried to remember, and finally nodded, realizing where he was.

He was at the Avengers Compound.

But, he thought to himself, how did he get up here? Hadn't he fallen asleep in the- oh.

Oh god, he was probably carried up here, wasn't he?

_God, you are a disappointment._

Peter frowned and shook that thought away, instead standing up out of his- the bed, walking up towards a mirror above a drawer. He scowled at his reflection, feeling disgusted by how he looked.

He realized how horrible he looked, how disgustingly _ugly_ he was.

He took off his sweater so he could take a good look at himself, and the scowl on his face deepened as he glared daggers at the reflection.

Peter looked at his sickly skin and the angry red cuts that littered across his arms. He looked at how his skin was practically clinging onto his bones, he saw the dark bags under his eyes and saw how furious he was at himself, he saw a horrible creature.

Hadn't he promised? Hadn't he promsied that he wouldn't fall like this?

He couldn't bear too look at himself anymore, and put his sweater back on, letting out a shaky breath.

Peter felt gross.

He was starving, and he knew he had to eat. He knew he had to eat if he was to ever make himself look semi decent again.

Why had he thought that it was a good idea to starve himself? That it was a good idea to hurt himself?

The kid sat back down on the bed, running his fingers through his hair as he tried to breathe normally. He had promised he wouldn't let himself fall like this ever again.

He felt gross, he felt ugly, he knew he had to eat and to stop cutting but it was like an addiction, he couldn't stop it. He had tried to make himself feel hungry in the past, to the point where his stomach growled loudly, but every time he had food he would feel disgusting, feel like a waste of space, and give the food to someone else.

But he was going to try and eat something today.

He was determined, so that he can leave the compound earlier and so that he wouldn't have to see the Avengers' pitying looks.

He got up and walked outside into the hall way, ignoring the stares directed towards him when he walked out. Peter noticed Sam and Clint playing Mario Kart, Natasha watching them with an amused expression, and Tony, Bruce, and Steve speaking in hushed tones. Peter strained his ears, trying to listen in to their conversation, but it didn't work.

"Welcome back to the Land of the Living, Underoos." Tony quipped, smiling genuinely, and Steve nudged him harshly. Peter stared at the man and shrugged.

"Hi."

_they hate you, you should've stayed in your room._

"Hungry?" Bruce asked kindly, holding out a small apple. Peter eyed it carefully and slowly took it, keeping it in his hands. Tony seemed to be beaming, glad to be making progress already. Clint called out as he passed Sam and became in first place at the video game;

"yo Spidey, wanna play?"

Peter seemed to smile for the first time in weeks and excitedly sat down beside Sam, grabbing a controller.

"That's like asking if I call Mister Stark Mister Stark."

Nat snorted quietly and Tony looked at the kid in awe, and suddenly, he felt like things would be okay. Peter didn't smile as brightly nor did he laugh as loudly but it was a start, it was a good start too if you asked him.

Peter almost felt his mask break as Clint stuck his tongue out when he won, but Peter rolled his eyes and demanded a rematch instead, trying to keep the mask on for as long as possible.

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don't know if its any good, i tried, review and favourite


	18. Chapter 18

Happy Birthday to our favourite webhead :)

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And over time, things did eventually get better.

Peter purged less and began talking more, slowly building his weight back up to what it was originally. He ate small meals and tried to keep the food down in his stomach instead of puking it back out. He went back to school a week after staying with the Avengers and got to know the building and its residents better. His relationship with Mister Stark improved and he felt like things would be okay.

He also slowly began his routine of patrolling as Spider-Man again.

Before the attempt, Peter had tried staying up all night to patrol. That had been another one of the reasons why he didn't get as much sleep as he used to.

Well, that and nightmares and the fear of being left alone after letting himself become close to another father figure in his life.

He had taken a small break for a while after he "moved in" with the Avengers, taking the time to try and get himself better, as well as to focus on his school work and mental health. By spending time being surrounded by people who genuinely seemed to care about him, and hanging out with his friends at school, and forcing himself to ignore the voices in his head, Peter did get better.

After a week, Tony had deemed himself "better enough" to let him become New York's favourite web swinger again. Peter patrolled for four hours at max, and gradually increased his time. Though the citizens were slightly disappointed that Spider-Man hasn't been around as often as he used to, they tried to put themselves in his shoes and understood his decisions.

Life was slowly getting better for Peter.

Of course, not every day was as good a day as the other.

He was still cutting, as expected, but it was a big step forward. The thoughts began lessening as well, only a few splattered here or there, only really intensifying when he had a bad day. Peter slowly opened up to the rest of the avengers, and told them silly memories from his earlier web swinging days. He still wore long sleeves, and luckily, since it was October, no one really questioned it. That gave him an easier time when he hid his scars, and even though Peter felt guilty for hiding something like this from the team, he felt as though he needed to do it unless he would've probably gone crazy a long time ago.

One particularly bad day, though, the voices were louder than ever, almost drowning out every other thought that he previously had. Peter had tried to ignore it the best he could, going to class as usual, until he finally couldn't take it and excused himself into the bathroom, where he had a panic attack in the stalls and yanked out a safety pin from his pocket.

Happy had to pick the kid up that day, and as soon as he parked the car, Peter had run out and locked himself in his room.

They had small relapses. Not anything major, but it would take them a couple of steps backwards. Peter refused to eat for a few days, ignoring the people who tried to talk to him, but after a while he began eating again.

And he'd hate to admit to it, but talking really helped. It really did. Natasha had stayed close to Peter during his relapses, as well as Tony, and sometimes Steve and surprisingly Clint. Bruce was there to comfort him at times when the teen was too afraid to talk to the others in fear of disappointing them. The scientist himself reassured the kid, told him that Tony would never be disappointed in him.

And then Peter found out that Tony saw him as a son.

It had been a quiet day, really. A bad day, but as far as bad days went, this one was pretty mild. He was pretty secluded, only joined in conversations if he really had to, and resorted at picking at his sleeves and scabs. Peter had been distracted by some thoughts, but they weren't so loud and intimidating that he still couldn't hear the others talk.

He was tired, too. The night before he couldn't sleep because of his thoughts, and ending up purging for the first time in weeks. He supposed that was why he was having a bad day today, because he hated himself for doing that. Peter didn't even notice when he began dozing off in the couch, but apparently his head was nodding away as Tony was explaining to the other avengers about a dream that he had. His mentor had stopped talking when he noticed, Peter's head sinking into the cushions. He snorted quietly, scooting up beside him and running his fingers through his curls. The rest of the avengers watched this entire interaction, all thinking, relatively, the same thing: Tony acted like a father towards Peter.

"As a dad, I'm impressed," Clint had remarked quietly, smiling at Stark as he watched Peter's body language loosen as he continued running his fingers through the teen's curls. He meant it too, because he knows from experience when he was calming his own kids down, whether it be from a nightmare that they had or their fear of going back. He couldn't blame them, of course, school sucked.

Tony half heartedly glared at the archer, though he glanced back at th- _his_ kid with some sort of affection and fondness that Steve never really saw in his eyes before. It was kind of a nice change from his ego-centric, arrogant mask that he put on. Bruce smiled at his fellow scientist, glad that the man was able to help Peter, because God knew that he deserved the help. The avengers all silently observed how Tony was treating the teen, until Pepper walked in.

That was a fun couple of days ago when Tony explained to Pepper what had happened to the kid. She had yelled at him and then cried, then yelled at him again and that cycle continued for about two hours until she gave up and just cried for ten more minutes. Stark had comforted her and told her that he was going to do everything in his power to make sure that he was okay, and right now, it seemed that everything was okay. Even if it was just at this moment.

So when Pepper walked in, Natasha looked at her and put a finger on top of her lips, signaling the CEO of the building to be quiet. Pepper of course did so, and just smiled knowingly at Tony, who childishly pouted before replacing it with a smile, hesitating before shaking Peter awake.

Peter blinked slowly, squinting as the bright ceiling light filled his vision. He flinched slightly before looking at his mentor, smiling goofily. "Morning, Mister Stark."

Tony laughed, rolling his eyes. "It's nine in the evening, underoos."

"Oh." Peter hummed tiredly and let his eyes droop to a close again, feeling his exhaustion take a toll on him. Tony pulled him off the couch, making the teen unwillingly stand up.

"Time for bed, kid."

"But daaaaad," Peter whined, his eyes still closed, and Tony froze. "I'm like, not even tired."

Tony almost forgot to reply, and just gently pushed the kid into his room. The rest of the Avengers had wide eyes, save for some of the others who had smirks on their faces. "Whatever you say, Pete." He opened the door for him, and Pepper followed closely behind, winking at the other team members before leaning against the door frame and watched an interaction play out between the duo.

"Mister Stark-"

"Shush, _son_." And even though he said the word "son" in a teasing tone, Peter still flushed and stammered, muttering an apology while looking at his mentor in awe. Tony played it off as just a teasing sort of word, although he really did mean it; he treated and thought of him like his own. Maybe he didn't show it in the best ways, but the point still stood.

Pepper couldn't hear the rest of the conversation that took place in between them, but she did catch the last little bit.

As Tony began to stand up to leave the teen to sleep, Peter grabbed his arm suddenly, with an innocently pleading look in his eyes that made Tony's heart ache. He whispered quietly, "don't leave."

Tony didn't know what to do. The way Peter said it almost made his heart break, and he wondered if this was what parents feel when their children get hurt.

So he did the only thing his instincts told him to do.

"Of course, kiddo." So he sat back down and gently rubbed small circles on the back of Peter's hand until his eyes slowly started to drooped and he let out quiet, steady breaths, signaling that he was asleep. Mister Stark quietly got off the bed, leaving the room. Pepper followed him and closed the door with a quiet click.

Pepper smiled at her fiance, and Tony raised an eyebrow as they headed back to the kitchen. "You'd make a great father some day, you know?"

"I'm just doing what any adult would do." Tony retorted, crossing his arms. Steve, having heard their conversation, snorted.

"No offense, but you're not just 'any adult', Tony," Steve remarked while Tony looked at him in mock offense, putting a hand over his heart, "even Clint was talking about it."

Tony huffed, pouring himself a glass of light beer, "I'm not trying to replace his dad."

Pepper gently put a hand on his arm, looking at him with a genuine expression. "Maybe not, but you're a good father figure for him. You see how Peter looks at you. He got better faster than I ever expected because of you."

Tony fell silent and looked at her, a calculating expression clear in his face. Some part of him did pride himself for being able to help Peter as much as he did. But that didn't mean that everyone else didn't do their part. All the avengers had played a key role, and he thought that it was their team effort that got Peter better.

It was a weird feeling whenever he was near the kid. It was like protectiveness, love, worry, and concern all mashed up into one big pile of mess. Tony didn't really understand it, and when Natasha had teased him and said, "it's cuz you're turning into a dad, Stark," he had waved it off and rolled his eyes, scoffing. But now he was thinking about how the spy might've been right, that maybe he _was _turning into Peter's dad. Not exactly as in replacing, but as in that he was turning into a big part of Peter's life, and in turn, also making the kid be a big part of _his _life.

That was scary to think about, when he looked back at the events of a few weeks ago. How he was so close to have lost Peter, lost someone that he had _genuinely _cared about, someone that was supposed to be _his_ responsibility, someone who was in _his _care. Tony had a panic attack thinking over the ways that "the attempt" could've gotten wrong, and Pepper and Bruce had to reassure him and calm him down. In the end, it was Peter who had walked in on them, and Peter came up and gave his mentor the biggest hug and had said quietly, "it's not your fault."

That had resulted into waterworks, from all of them, and they eventually laughed about it over dinner and made jokes. It was fun.

It was fun being around the kid, and he didn't know what he would've done if Tony had lost him.

That's why he upgraded Peter's suit, made sure there was extra padding for protection the inside, made sure there was a backup parachute _for_ the backup parachute. Clint had made fun of him and called him a mother hen when he caught Tony stressing around his lab and the scientist had threw a screw driver at him.

Nevertheless, Tony shrugged Pepper off and took a sip out of his glass. Pepper sighed, shaking her head, muttering about how some things never change.

But things got better.

They get better.

Eventually.

Sure, they had relapses. Tony knew of some sort what he was supposed to do now, but he wasn't going to act like he was upset and shocked and worried when he was sitting in the waiting room beside May and Peter's best friend, as well as his soon to be girlfriend, waiting to hear if Peter had lived through his attempt a few months later. He knew it was all part of the deal, all part of the mental illness, and he was going to do everything he could to make sure the kid was safe.

It was his responsibility, and he knew that there were his teammates to help Peter back up if he fell.

* * *

Finished? Completed?

I don't know. It feels weird. This whole story, from start to finish. I actually completed one.

I'm not sure, really. I feel like it's finished, ever since the chapter before this. I just didn't have the right idea as to how to write the ending.

It's weird saying this is completed, but I want to know what you guys thought about this story. Should there have been more, I'm not sure. I just felt like this was the right spot to end it. Call it an epilogue if you will.

Let me know what you think, and thank you so much for reading this story!


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